


Generation Nothing

by GerardWaysThirdNipple



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Dean, Cigarettes, Dean Smokes, Depression, F/M, M/M, Mary is dead but John isn't a complete dick, Mary was wonderful, Mentions Of Schizophrenia, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Death, Self Harm, TW: Mentions of Self Harm, and other mental illnesses, chuck is daddy novak, mentions of depression and suicide, no monsters, recovery from nicotine use, recovery from self harm, slow burn hopefully, sorry - Freeform, the novaks are religious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:35:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21801517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GerardWaysThirdNipple/pseuds/GerardWaysThirdNipple
Summary: Dean Winchester and his family just moved to Pontiac, Illinois after his mother's death. He soon meets Castiel Novak and befriends him, becoming intrigued and infatuated by the boy.A slow burn high school alternate universe where Cas and Dean stumble through the end of their secondary school years and through the misery of life.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 19





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter and introduction is quick, but I couldn't drag out their meeting for very long. It's been four years since I have posted anything on here, so I pardon any rustiness and errors (I don't have a beta writer). I hope you enjoy!

Dean Winchester had just moved to Pontiac, Illinois, a town with barely more than 10,000 people, right into a suburb where all the neighbors knew each other and had weekly block parties when the weather was warm enough. 

He was about to turn eighteen when his family moved into the big blue house on Auburn Street. It was just him, his little brother Sammy, and his dad. 

Dean helped his dad carry in the last couch from the moving truck, their breaths coming out in clouds in front of them from the frozen air. He had taken off his dad’s old leather jacket hours ago and was wearing just a black t-shirt; there was no need for layering in this weather when you’re moving your entire life from a truck into a two-story house. 

“Alright, Dean, just set it down here, we can move it later.” They were in the main living room, boxes with Dean’s neat writing everywhere. They let down the couch and John, Dean’s father, plopped down on it with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to rest for a few, and then we can start unpacking. Go find your brother and explore, meet the neighbors.” 

Dean rolled his eyes at his dad, who closed his own and promptly began snoring, and went outside to shut the truck in case it started snowing. He went out into the driveway, slamming the roll up door of the moving truck, then walked around to the right side of the house, where a walnut tree was growing. He looked up the side of the house and saw that a branch reached perfectly to a window there, and he made note to ask for that bedroom before Sam could claim it. 

He was able to touch the lowest branches and wiped off snow so he could pull himself up the tree a few feet, pushing snow off until he was at the branch that reached his new bedroom. He looked away from his house and to their neighbors, where a branch opposite him reached another window. He looked around the trunk of the tree to see into the room and saw a pale boy with dark hair sitting in the window with a book. 

Dean, without really thinking, climbed around the tree to get closer to the window, the branch leaning over the wooden fence separating the properties. He sat on it, trying to get the attention of the boy, who looked close in age to him. 

The boy finally turned after Dean balled up snow and threw it at the window. He gasped at the sight of his neighbor; he was very handsome, and Dean could see his piercing blue eyes from where he sat. The boy looked annoyed at having been bothered from his book but put it down and opened the window. 

“Why are you throwing snowballs at me? And why are you in the tree? Without a jacket on?” The boy’s voice was deeper than Dean expected, and he asked these questions while slightly squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the right. 

“Uh, I’m your new neighbor. Just wanted to say ‘hi’, so. Hi,” Dean waved his hand.  
“Hello. My name is Castiel. Castiel Novak. You are…?” 

“Dean Winchester. What kind of name is ‘Castiel’?” Dean smiled, crawling closer to the window. 

The neighbor boy rolled his eyes and leaned out the window. “I was named after an angel; all my siblings were, too. Our mother is,” he faltered, and Dean stopped getting closer, his heart twisting. “…was, quite religious. Our father is as well, but not so much. But he loved her enough to agree to naming us after God’s garrison.” Castiel laughed at his own inside joke. 

Dean couldn’t help but notice the change in Castiel’s tone and how he had to change the tense when mentioning his mother. He didn’t want to pry. “Well, it’s kind of a mouthful, so how ‘bout I call you ‘Cas’ for short?” 

The dark- haired boy considered it for a second, his dry lips (Dean was close enough to see how chapped they were, now) pursed, then smiled, just barely. “I think that would be acceptable.” 

“Dean! Dad wants us to start unpacking!” The window behind Dean was slammed open and his little brother, Sam, startled him. 

“Whoa!” He flailed his arms and went sideways off the branch, falling into two feet of snow below him. He looked up and saw Sam laughing his ass off and looked to see if Cas was laughing too. But the neighbor boy had disappeared, and Dean continued to lay in the snow from embarrassment, the heat on his body more persistent than the cold snow he was in. 

“Dean, are you alright?” He heard the crunch of snow next to him and opened his eyes to see Cas a foot away from him, kneeling in the snow. 

He sat up and shook the snow out of his hair. “Yeah, thankfully I have a thick skull,” he laughed. As he sat up, Cas didn’t move away, so their faces ended up being just a few inches away from each other. Dean could see Cas’ eyes in all their glory now, such a beautiful blue, like God had put the sky in his irises. His eyes darted down to the other boy’s lips and he instinctively licked his own from seeing how dry Cas’ were. He realized he was staring at his lips and looked back up into the neighbor’s eyes. 

“Are you sure? You could have a concussion, and if you sit out here much longer in just a t-shirt, you’ll get sick. Come on,” Cas stood up and offered his hand, which Dean took and stood up as well, his clothes soaked from the snow. “Let’s get you inside.” 

Cas held onto Dean’s hand as he led him into the blue house. “Where are towels or blankets?” 

Cas walked into the living room where the piles of boxes were stacked neatly, and where John was. Dean ripped his hand away from Cas’ as his father turned around. 

“Dean, I just asked Sam to get you. Why are you wet? Who’s this?” John turned his gaze to Cas warily and Dean’s heart raced as he realized John had seen them holding hands. Damn Cas for being helpful, he thought. 

“This is Cas from next door. I fell out of the tree. I need a towel.” He started looking for the bathroom box as a chill ran through him.

“Cas, huh? As in ‘Castiel’? Your last name Novak, son?” 

“Yes, sir. Do you know my father?” 

John chuckled. “Actually, I knew your mother first. But your pop had suggested we move here when…well, you know.” He trailed off, being polite about Cas’ mother. “Thought it might be good for old buddies to try to help each other out.” 

Dean watched Cas’ stance change at the mention of his mother and he walked over to save him. “I have a blanket upstairs; I should be fine. Come on, Cas, I gotta claim my room before Sammy takes it.” He grabbed Cas by the arm of his tan coat and almost dragged him up the stairs. 

“Don’t mind my dad, he doesn’t know how to be tactful,” he said as he walked into the room that he had mentally claimed, where Sam was trying to put up posters. 

“Oh no, Sammy, I’m older, so I get to choose first. This room’s mine,” Dean grabbed the comforter off the bed and wrapped himself in it. 

“Aw, come on, Dean!” 

“House rules, Sammy.” Dean ruffled his brother’s hair, which really needed to be trimmed. “This is Cas, by the way. Neighbor boy.” 

“Hey,” Sam nodded. “You got a younger brother?”

“I have several brothers, but Gabriel might be the closest in age to you. Are you in junior high?” 

“Eighth grade.” 

“So is Gabe, you might have classes with him, but I can introduce you.” Cas sat on the bed next to Dean. 

“Alright, Sammy, scram. Go find Dad.” Dean loved his brother but right now he wanted to talk to Cas. Alone. 

Sam took off, yelling to their dad about being hungry. 

“Gabriel? Really? You weren’t joking about angel names.” Dean scoffed, a shudder running through him. He needed a towel, and a shower. An image of Cas under the hot water with him flashed through his mind and he wiggled in place, shooing away the thought. 

You just met the guy, he’s probably straighter than a board with how religious his family is! He thought. 

Cas glanced over at Dean, seeing that he was shivering. “Dean, I recommend you go find some towels and dry clothes and take a warm shower. Start with warm water, then once you adjust to the temperature, you can turn it hotter. Start too hot and it’ll hurt whatever is cold.” 

His clear eyes bore into Dean’s and both boys had to look away as they thought of the other joining them in a steaming shower. 

“You sound like a mother,” Dean grumbled. 

“I’ve had to be one for a while, I’ve had practice.” Cas said solemnly. “I should be going. I don’t want to be the reason you catch pneumonia.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’ll go down with you,” Dean got up and laid the blanket over the footboard so it could dry. 

They walked slowly down the stairs, close enough for Dean to feel the warmth from Cas’ body. Another shiver ran through him. 

“Please actually get into a shower and warm, dry clothes.” The dark-haired boy said at the bottom of the steps. 

“I will, Cas. Don’t worry about me.” 

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Sam and your father are welcome, too. I know Sam is at an age where he’s basically just a pit.” 

“Oh, uh. Yeah. I’ll ask them, my dad might want to just stay and do his own thing, but I would definitely.” 

Cas smiled. “Great. Give me your number so I can tell you what time.” He took his phone out, a sleek, black smartphone, and unlocked it with his thumb. 

Dean relayed it to him and watched Cas put in his information, then type out a text saying who it was. Dean’s own phone vibrated in his pocket, so he took it out to add Cas. 

His was also a smartphone, same brand as Cas’ but a few models behind. He felt embarrassed showing it to him but continued putting in the boy’s name. 

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit, Dean.” Cas gave him a little smile and walked out the door. 

Dean smiled, looking at his phone, the text from Cas still open. 

Hello, Dean. This is Cas. CN

Such a stupid text, but it made him feel funny. 

He turned and went into the living room, where his father and Sam were rummaging through a box with pots and pans. 

“The Novak boy leave?” John said, grabbing another box labelled ‘kitchen’. “He seems a little light in the loafers.” 

Dean’s face got red. “Dad, come on. He seems like a good kid. And he’s religious, you know that.” 

John laughed and shook his head. “Just because someone is religious doesn’t mean they can’t be a flamer. If he is, I don’t know I want my boys hanging around him.” 

“So you’re saying it’s not okay to be gay, Dad? Really?” Sam spoke up now. “It’s not the sixties anymore, people can love whoever they want.” 

John scoffed a little but stayed silent, continuing to move dishes out of boxes and walking into the kitchen. Dean could feel his anger continue to flow, fists at his side. His dad had never mentioned any homophobia in the past, not that he ever needed to. Dean had never talked about his sexuality to his dad before, because he honestly wasn’t sure. 

He had only ever been with girls (well, two to be exact, but he was a big fan of boobs), but he had lately found guys attractive in the same way, too. And Cas had made his heart race like no one else, no girl or guy, had before. 

“Thanks, Sammy. Glad to know you’ll always have my back,” he unclenched his fists and ran a hand through his hair, then grabbed a box that said it was for his room. “You want to go to the Novak’s for dinner with me? Cas invited us and Dad, but after that bullshit, I’m not saying anything to him.”

“I understand, but yeah I’ll go, I’m starving.” 

Dean ruffled Sam’s hair, laughing. “You’re always starving, man. I’ll let you know when. I’m going to go jump in the shower.”


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam go over for dinner and meet the rest of the Novak's!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended this chapter a little early because if I had put up to the next natural pause, this chapter would be wicked long. So in a couple of days I'll update it instead of waiting longer. I have almost 11k words written for this pic already, so I'm trying to parcel it all out while I continue to write. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> TW: loss of parents, mentions of schizophrenia and cancer.

An hour later, Dean was finishing hooking up his television. He had unpacked a big part of his room, spending the most time having to hang up his clothes. He was playing Led Zepplin from his phone when it dinged, indicating a text message. He checked it, seeing that Cas had messaged. 

Dinner will be ready for 6, you can come over whenever you would like. CN

‘Alright, I’ll be over in a few. Sam wants to come but my dad is all set. That still cool? -D’

Of course. CN

Dean grabbed a flannel he decided on when he had unpacked, a green and brown one that made his eyes even more vibrant. Over it he threw his dad’s old leather jacket and slipped on his shoes. 

Heading down the hall to the stairs, he yelled for Sam. 

“Sammy, I’m going over next door now, come on,” he knocked on his brother’s door. 

The door opened and there was Sam bundled up in a sweater and winter jacket. Dean laughed. 

“Dude, it’s a five-minute walk, why are you dressed like we’re trekking to Alaska?” 

“It’s cold out!” Sam said, pushing past Dean and stomping down stairs. Dean followed and popped up his collar. 

“Where are you boys going?” John was in the living room still, sorting through more boxes. 

“Over to the Novak’s, they invited us for dinner. There’s one my age.” Sam said simply, leaving the house without so much as a goodbye. Dean didn’t look at John, following his little brother outside, slamming the front door. He caught up to Sam who had made it to the end of the walkway. 

“You’re brave, kid. Now let’s go meet the rest of the angels, huh?” 

The Novak house was the same style as the Winchester’s but was white with light grey accents. Sam led the way up to the door, rapping on the wood with his knuckles. 

It took all of three seconds for the door to swing open, revealing a wide-eyed red-head a few years older than Dean. Her skin was milkier than Cas’, who had the slightest of tans; and Dean tried to figure out if she was actually related to Cas. 

“Can I help you?” 

“I’m Sam, this is Dean. We’re here for dinner.” 

Dean cut in, giving Sam a side eye look of ‘Dude, that’s so rude!’

“Cas invited us over, we just moved in next door.” 

The girl looked him up and down the motioned for them to come in. They obliged, Dean shutting the door behind him. The inside of the house was set up in a mirror image of theirs, but the stairs were still what you first saw when you walked in, through a little hall with a door on either side. 

“Castiel! You have guests, come retrieve them!” The girl left them by the foot of the stairs and disappeared to another part of the house. 

“It’s weird our houses are so similar,” Sam whispered. He looked around at the spotless house. There were school pictures hanging and Dean counted six including Cas. The red-head’s photo was of her college graduation, and he saw two others also for college, one for high school graduation, then the remainder normal school photos. From the looks of it, they did look like they could be related, not adopted, but Dean would ask. He couldn’t imagine living with more than just Sam. 

“Hello, Dean. Sam,” Cas appeared next to the brothers, having silently come from who knows where. “Admiring our school pictures, I see. That’s Michael and Raphael.” Cas pointed to the two other college graduation photos. “I know you met Anna. They’ve all finished college, as you can see. Then there’s Zachariah who just graduated high school, me of course, and then Gabriel.” 

Dean focused on Cas’ picture. He was straight-faced in it, his lips completely empty of a smile, and his eyes were…sad. He felt tears prick at his own eyes thinking why Cas looked like that, what could have caused the unhappiness he had tried to keep hidden. And now he turned to look at the boy who was in front of him, and took him in. He was wearing a white button down; which Dean thought was weird considering he was at home. The sleeves were rolled up and he had it untucked from his dark wash jeans. Dean felt underdressed in his faded jeans and worn out flannel. 

“Come upstairs, Gabriel is up there, Sam.” He started up the stairs, with the Winchester boys following him. 

“Gabriel, Sam is here, come meet him.” Cas knocked on the first door on the right at the top of the stairs. 

“One second, I don’t have pants on!” Came a voice that could only come from a boy going through puberty. A minute later, the door opened to reveal a boy with honey blond hair that was a little tanner than Cas and much shorter than him. “Hey.”

“Hey, man, I’m Sam.” The younger Winchester held out his hand and the youngest Novak shook it. 

“’Sup? You want to play CoD with me?” 

“Yes!” Sam followed Gabriel into his bedroom and the sounds of shooting were heard almost instantly. 

Cas rolled his eyes and continued on down the hallway, to his room that was on the left side of the hallway. The door was already open, and Dean could hear soft piano music. Entering the room, he could tell exactly what kind of person Cas was deep down. 

His bed was made neatly, an entire wall was a bookcase filled with all sorts of works that Dean just knew was in alphabetical order. A speaker system was on a desk that was organized so beautifully, which was where the music was coming from. There were multiple posters of the constellations and planets, but the rest of the room was sparse. Not cluttered with knick-knacks or keepsakes like Dean’s would be when he moved in fully. Dean looked out the window where the tree he was sitting on just a few hours ago stood, and the window to his own bedroom. 

“You’re a neat freak, huh?” 

“I can’t function in a messy workspace. I like order; life itself is too chaotic.” Cas looked out the window to the barren tree. Dean could see that he was far away in his mind. 

“Did your mom pass, too?” Dean had been wanting to ask the question ever since Cas had mentioned her earlier; now he was kicking himself for blurting it out. 

Cas came back to the present and took his eyes off the tree to look at Dean. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. But uh, I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours?” He joked, trying to lift the now heavy feeling in the room. Cas sighed and sat on his bed, pushing himself to the middle and sitting cross legged. Dean followed, perching on the edge. 

“She’s not dead, she’s over at Riveredge. My mother is schizophrenic.” He looked at his hands folded in his lap. 

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I’m sorry, man. I know how hard it can be to be without a mom, no matter the reason.” 

Cas looked at the hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat from Dean’s skin, and relaxed into it slightly. He met Dean’s gaze, his blue eyes wide. “Thank you, Dean. Nobody outside my family knows about…anything, really. I don’t tell people, and people don’t ask.” 

Dean dropped his hand. “Your friends don’t know?”   
This question made Cas squirm and he stopped looking at Dean again. “I don’t really have…friends.” He said the word like it was foreign to his mouth. “I just stick to myself.” 

“Well, I’m your friend now.” Dean said, meaning it. He had always been able to get along with people at school, except the last few months, but it was only because of what had happened. Trauma can really change you, not for the better, but Dean was determined to do better. 

Cas smiled finally, looking at Dean again. “I like that.” He paused for a beat. “What happened to your mother? You said ‘too’ when you asked about if mine was deceased.”

Dean sighed and chewed on his lower lip. “Well, she did pass away, this past September. Cancer, you know. By the time they found it, it was too late for treatments, and within a month she was…gone. It was really hard to live in that house, especially for my Dad, so he started looking for a new place and your dad got in contact with him, so here we are.” Dean let out a laugh, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. He hadn’t talked about his mom since she had passed. It was Cas’ turn to comfort him, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder like the Winchester boy had done for him. 

“She was my best friend, I told her everything. Anything about school, or who I liked that week, and she never judged me for who it was, thankfully. I could never had told my Dad anything like that, he would’ve killed me.” Another nervous laugh, he was saying too much. “But, yeah. That’s my trauma. Glad we could both get it out in the open.” He stared out the window at the tree. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. That must have been very hard to lose her. But she’s with God now, no longer in pain.” Cas smiled. “My mother always said that the good souls get taken too soon because God misses their light.” 

Dean nodded slowly, pondering the thought. “Mine used to say that angels were watching over me, so to trust God’s plan. But when she got sick and died, I got angry at God because she was such a good person. I never understood how angels or God could let her go if they were watching over me.” He looked at Cas, knowing what he was saying could hit a nerve since Cas grew up religious. “I still am angry at him. I’m angry at whatever angel my mom thought was watching me.” 

Cas tilted his head, eyes sparkling with humor. “My mother told me she named me after her favorite angel, Cassiel, who watched over the death of kings and people who were overlooked. He loved mankind the most, particularly those at their lowest.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, wondering how freaky it was that they had met, especially at a time when Dean felt like nothing mattered. Ever since his mother’s death, he had just wanted to disappear. 

“When she started showing signs of her illness, she would tell me I was destined to take care of humanity. I never understood what she meant, because I’m not an actual angel,” he chuckled. “I thought it was just her hallucinations, unless she’s a prophet of the Lord.” 

Both boys laughed at the thought of this. 

“Are you religious, though? Or had you been before?” 

“We never went to church when I was growing up, but my mom was definitely spiritual, hence the angel stuff. My dad just went along with all of it, until she passed. Then he got pretty angry at God, too. Sorry if this sounds blasphemous or something,” Dean said. He didn’t want to ruin his only friendship in this town just yet. 

Cas shook his head. “Everyone has a right to their own opinions. I grew up in a religious household, I was molded to believe in something. But the older I get, the more I realize what religion does for and to people. I don’t go to church every week anymore. My dad stopped caring after a while, it wasn’t worth the arguing.”

There was a knock at the door and both boys whipped their heads to see the red headed girl, Anna, waiting. 

“Dinner is almost ready, Castiel. Wash your hands before dinner, and,” she looked Dean up and down. “Have this one wash everything.” She turned her nose up as she spun to go tell the younger brothers the same. 

“Wow, kind of a bitch, isn’t she?” Dean said under his breath. He looked at his hands, which were cleaner than normal; he was always working with his hands, so the calluses on his fingers almost always had grease on them, dirt caked under his nails. He made sure to scrub everything when he had taken a shower. 

“Usually, yes. Don’t take what she says to heart. I don’t. You ready to eat?”


	3. Eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with the Novak's! We learn some more about the family dynamics and family itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! Here's the next chapter to make up for the last one being so short! I hope everyone is having a good holiday season.

Dean and Cas weren’t the first ones Anna had told about dinner. Already seated in the dining room at a big, dark wooden table were two men that Dean recognized from the pictures on the wall. 

“Michael, Zach, this is Dean Winchester. He just moved in next door,” Cas said while sitting across from his brothers, Dean taking a place next to him. Sam and Gabe came down next, the younger Winchester sitting on the other side of Dean, and Gabe sitting across from him. There were still four more spots to sit at, and Dean realized just how big Cas’ family really was, seeing almost everyone there. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Dean. How did you meet Cas?” Zachariah asked. He leaned back lazily in his chair; he smiled at the teen, and Dean’s stomach did flips. Something about him put Dean off, but he smiled back and answered politely. 

“I threw a snowball at his window because he had his nose shoved in a book.” He laughed a little at the memory of Cas’ surprised face, and his own embarrassing fall. 

“It was about honey bees, I was very intrigued by it.” Cas rolled his eyes, letting them fall on Dean. “They’re the most important pollinator, you know.” 

Dean rolled his eyes back, smiling naturally at this Novak brother. 

“Castiel has always been obsessed with bees, ever since our Mother brought him to a beekeeping farm when he was a child. Would tell his he wanted to be a beekeeper when he grew up,” Michael cut in. “I hope he’s changed his mind to focus on something that is a little more fulfilling in a monetary sense.” 

Dean looked at the oldest Novak at the table. He looked the most like Cas, he thought, with dark hair that he kept neat, and blue eyes that flashed with seriousness as he lifted a glass of water to his lips. 

“You’re very bright. Castiel,” he continued after his sip. “You could easily go into the medical field, you enjoy science and helping others.” 

Dean looked back to the boy sitting next to him, thinking about how fast Cas had gotten to him after Dean had fallen, and how concerned he had been about the health of the Winchester. He could make a good practitioner. 

Cas shot his older brother a dark look. “I already told you, I don’t want to go into the medical field like you, Michael, like Dad wants us all to do. I have freedom to be whatever I please, and I am going to choose my own path.” 

Michael chuckled while shaking his head, clearly tired of having this conversation. “I’m not forcing you to do or be anything, neither is Dad. We just don’t want you to waste your potential.” He turned his gaze to Dean. “Are you a senior like Castiel?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Have you thought about college? What you’d like to do?” Another sip from his glass. Dean could hear the oven shutting in the kitchen and plates being moved around. 

“I really like working on cars and building stuff, so I was thinking about mechanical engineering.” He hadn’t really been thinking about college since his mom passed, but it was fast approaching. He’d have to send in applications soon. “But I haven’t even looked into schools, at least not here. I might just do a state school,” he shrugged. He’d honestly just go anywhere that gave him the most scholarships. 

“Any of the U of I campuses have good programs for that. Champaign is an hour and a half away.” Cas said. “I’m looking into that one for astronomy or physics, haven’t decided yet.” 

“Alright, boys, someone come help me bring out everything,” Anna called from the kitchen. All the Novak’s at the table stood up, with Dean and Sam following to help. Everyone grabbed something different: Sam got the plates, Dean was handed a large bowl of mashed potatoes, Cas took a plate of rolls and a dish of butter, then Michael took the ham that Anna had just pulled out of the oven. They all went back into the dining room, putting down the food and dishes and sitting back down. 

“Where’s Dad?” Cas asked while passing a bowl of peas to Dean, who took it and put some on his plate. 

“He said he was going to be here, but to not wait for him.” Anna sat down and watched the boys fill their plates. Once everyone had everything they wanted, including her, she held out her hands to Cas and Zach, of which she sat in the middle of at the head of the table. They held her outstretched hands, and then Zach took Michael’s, who then took Gabe’s. Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and Dean, not wanting to be rude, held Sam’s. 

Anna started saying grace, so Dean closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Cas’ warm fingers holding tight onto his. He frowned when Anna said ‘amen’ and Cas let go, but followed everyone else in repeating the prayer. 

Michael began cutting the ham into thick slices, then began handing them out as people passed down plates. Everyone seemed to have the first helping of food they wanted and started to eat. Dean took a bite of the ham and had to restrain himself from letting out a moan. It was amazing; the ham was the perfect ratio of salty and sweet, the brown sugar mixture Anna had drizzled on it had caramelized all over the outside. It melted in his mouth while he chewed, and he had another bite before he swallowed the first. 

“So Dean,” Michael put down his knife and fork. “Are you and your family members of any church?” 

“Michael!” Anna chastised, her hands flat on the table as she stared at her brother. 

“What? He and Sam just said ‘grace’ with us, it’s only fitting I ask! I wanted to invite them to the next Sunday service.” 

Dean interjected before Anna said anything else. “Actually, we haven’t gone to church since our mom passed, and I don’t think my dad is interested in going again right now.” 

Michael nodded slowly, dragging a finger across his lower lip, thinking. “Well, doesn’t mean you and Sam can’t go with us.” 

Dean looked at Sam, who was in the process of buttering the roll he had grabbed. “I mean, if Sam wants to go, then I don’t see why not.” 

Sam shoved half the roll in his mouth, chewing deliberately. “It wouldn’t hurt?” He offered. 

Dean kicked him under the table, suppressing a sigh. He really had no interest in sitting in a stuffy church pew in itchy clothes. But he wasn’t going to be rude and it would be nice if he had even one friend to start the new semester with, so he smiled while Sam huffed from the kick. “I guess that’s a yes, then.” 

The rest of the dinner conversation consisted of Anna and Michael talking about medical school, not again suggesting it to Cas, but they only talked of the good aspects of it and their careers, not the hours spent studying and all the stress that came with it. 

Cas pushed the peas on his plate around on his plate, which was only half eaten. He held his chin in his hand, leaning on it, turning his head to Dean and spoke in a low voice. “You done? We can go back upstairs.” 

Dean nodded, following Cas as the Novak boy stood up with his plate, heading into the kitchen. He dumped the leftover food in the trash, leaving his plate in the sink. “It’s Gabe’s turn to do dishes, so don’t worry about washing anything.” He smiled and the two went back upstairs. 

The piano music was still playing but it was sadder this time. 

“You don’t have to go to church with us, you know. Our friendship won’t be tarnished by it,” Cas went over to the docking system that was playing the melancholy song, skipping it to another song that was a little faster, but continued in minor chords. 

Dean shrugged and sat on the bed, staring at his hands. “It’s been a long time and I feel like…like maybe I should go, so I can, y’know, apologize to God, or whatever,” he threw his hands up a little. 

Cas turned from his desk and stared at him with his intense blue eyes, causing Dean’s breath to hitch. “You shouldn’t apologize to God; He is meant to be all forgiving, no matter what. You do not owe Him anything, Dean.” Cas sat on the bed again, too, studying Dean’s face. “If you think that way, you will be afraid of God, and that isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” 

“You make a good point, but I don’t think I should be in a house of worship with all this anger.”

“So during prayer, explain your anger and sadness, but never apologize. He will understand, I promise.” Cas smiled gently and his eyes softened.   
Dean shrugged his shoulders. “If you think that could help, then sure. I won’t apologize to the Almighty,” he laughed. Cas smiled wider and laughed with him. 

“So your family seems…nice.” 

Cas rolled his eyes, laying down horizontally on the bed. “They’re alright, but I live with them, so it’s different.”

Dean copied Cas and laid down the wrong way, staring at the ceiling, where he saw those plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that probably didn’t work anymore. “They really want you to be a doctor, huh?” 

“Ugh, yes. Anna is an oncologist, Michael is an optometrist, Raphael, who you didn’t meet, wants to be a pediatrician, but he has terrible people skills, so I don’t know why he’d want to work with children.” 

Dean nodded. “Geez, whole family of doctors. What does your dad do?” 

“He’s a writer, so I don’t know why everyone went into the medical field. He’s the only one who supports me wanting to do something else instead of medicine.” Cas turned his head to look at Dean. “My mother was a nurse, though. She worked in the maternity wards. But it’s been so long since she was at home, and even longer since she was able to work at the hospital. But,” Dean finally turned his head to meet Cas’ gaze. “They all make good money, and that’s why they really push me into it.” 

“It is, but is money more important than being happy?” 

Cas smiled. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them.” He looked up at the ceiling. “The stars make me happy. I love learning about space, that’s what I always took from my mother’s spiels about angels: search the Heavens. That meant the skies and space for me.” 

Dean watched Cas’ eyes light up as he talked about the stars and he couldn’t help but smile. Cas looked at Dean again, still smiling. 

Dean was conscious of how close they were and wanted to close the gap; he hated that he was having these feelings about Cas, he just wanted them to be friends. He didn’t want to ruin anything. 

“What did you want to be when you were little?” Cas asked, breaking the silence. He watched Dean’s mouth move as he answered. 

“A fireman.”

Cas looked at Dean’s eyes now, his own widening. “Really? Why?”

“When I was like four or five, our first house caught fire. In Sam’s nursery; my mom had left a candle burning during the night after she had been up with him and fell asleep in there. Her and my dad,” Dean closed his eyes at the memory. “They almost didn’t make it. My dad had run in to grab Sam and I took him outside while we waited for the firetrucks to come. My mom had to be in the hospital for a few days from the smoke.” 

“Wow…I’m glad you all made it out. Sam seems to mean a lot to you.” 

Dean opened his eyes again. “I don’t know what I’d do without the kid. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s my brother.” 

Cas smiled again, but it was sadder than all the previous ones. It reminded him of Cas’ school picture. 

“But now I’m not sure. I want to go for engineering like I said, because I like to build things. My dad taught me how to work on cars when I was growing up and math has always come easy to me. But I don’t know what I’d do,” he admitted. 

“It’s okay to be unsure. People change their majors like four times during college, and change jobs even more often. It’s about finding your passion, so if it’s cars or building, follow that.”

Damn, Cas was wise. “What about you? What did you want to be?” 

“An astronaut, which I still want, but I think more realistically than I used to. I also wanted to be a famous pianist.” 

Dean rolled on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Can you play?” 

Cas sat up and nodded. “What I’ve been playing on the speaker are recordings of songs I’ve written and recorded. I’ve been playing since I was in elementary school.” 

“What? That’s so cool, man!” 

The dark-haired boy ducked his head, a blush forming. “Thank you. I don’t play in front of anyone very often, but listening to the songs encourages me to do it more.” 

“I really like them. But they’re kind of…sad?” 

Cas shrugged. “I just play when inspiration strikes; so if I’m sad, they sound sad, so I guess most of them will sound that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, imagining Cas with tears in his eyes as he sat at a stand-up piano, pouring his heart out through the white keys. 

Cas tilted his head in confusion. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean. My moments of unhappiness are not your fault.” 

“You take stuff real literal, don’t you?” 

“My family isn’t very humorous,” he replied with a straight face, that made Dean sigh and shake his head. He looked back up at the other boy to see him crack a smile at his own lame joke, and couldn’t help but smile with him. 

“Why won’t you play for people? You’re obviously good at it,” Dean asked, focusing on the soft music in the background. This song was happier than the last one he paid attention to. 

Another shrug. “I don’t quite like the attention.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow at that. He could personally play the guitar, had been since he was in primary school, and loved to show off. 

“Are you starting school on Monday?” 

“Yeah. It sucks we moved in the middle of the school year, though. I think my homeroom is with a Kaiser?” Dean said the name hesitantly. He really couldn’t remember his schedule. 

“He’s good; teaches English. If you have him you must have his creative writing class. All seniors take it for their final English credit. What other classes do you have?” 

“Calc 2, physics, a computer class, a weightlifting class, and one other one. I think I was able to get a double lunch or study hall.” 

“We might have a couple classes together,” Cas said. “I’m in calculus 2 and physics also, and only one teacher has the physics class.” 

Dean’s mood about going back to school brightened a little, thinking about being able to see Cas during class. 

There was a knock on the door frame and both boys looked over to the open door, where Sam was standing. 

“Dad texted, said he wants us home to finish moving a couple things.” 

Dean hadn’t even felt his phone vibrate, he’d been so caught up on the conversations with Cas. He stood up with Cas doing the same. 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

They went downstairs, Sam yelling ‘bye’ to Gabe as they walked by. At the front door, Sam left and ran back home, leaving Cas and Dean alone. 

“Thanks for having us over, man. It was really nice of you.” 

“Anytime; you’re all welcome over here, including your father. Mine has been so busy lately, he’s got a deadline to fulfill for a publication, but I’m sure he’d love to be able to catch up.” Cas smiled. “If you need help with your schedule, just text me or drop by before Monday?” 

“Sure, Cas. Thanks again.” Dean grinned and left, shutting the door behind him. It had gotten much darker than when he and Sam had come, and the bite of the air made him shiver. He was glad he lived right next door but wished he had still layered up more.


	4. Smoking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys hang out some more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at chapter summaries, sorry.

When he got home, the living room had been almost emptied of boxes, and the furniture moved around so it actually looked like a sitting area. He heard his dad and Sam talking upstairs, so he went up to find them. 

They were talking in Sam’s room. When Dean entered, Sam’s mattress was leaning against the wall as he and their father were moving the bed frame to one corner. 

“Dean, don’t just stand there, move the night stand over here,” John said, out of breath after putting down the frame. So Dean brought it over, then he and John put the mattress back on the frame. 

John clapped his hand on Dean’s shoulder in thanks. “Alright, we should be done in here now. You need help in your room?” He asked Dean. 

“Nah, I got it all set before we went next door.” 

“And how was that?” 

“Gabe is awesome!” Sam said, bouncing on his bed. 

John nodded, glad his youngest was making friends. “What ‘bout that Cas boy? Is he ‘awesome’, too?” 

Dean clenched his teeth. “Cas seems alright. It’ll be nice to know someone when I go to school in a couple days. Everyone is nice; they invited us to go with them to their church service next Sunday.” 

Their father scoffed, shaking his head. “You two gonna be bible thumpers now? Good lot it’ll do.” 

“We said we’d go to be polite. And aren’t you friends with their father anyways?” 

“Yeah, Chuck’s a good man, but it was his wife who was religious. And he doesn’t shove it down your throat. But whatever,” he threw up his hands in defeats. “Go if you’d like. Maybe it’ll help.” John stomped out the room and Dean was left confused by the way he was being back and forth. Hell, they had moved from Kansas to Illinois because Cas’ dad had suggested it!

“Don’t worry about him, Dean. I think he’s just sad and doesn’t know how to handle it,” Sam had stopped bouncing. 

“I’m not worried.” Dean stormed out as well, walking to his room and slamming the door. He turned on his light and sighed at the boxes he still had to unpack. Instead of doing that, he found his backpack, filled with empty binders and notebooks for the end of his high school career. He rifled through it until he found the schedule sheet he had been sent. He took out his phone, snapped a picture of the paper, and sent it to Cas, then started playing music so he could unpack. 

A Metallica song had just ended when his phone vibrated from his bed so he stopped putting up a poster of an old car to check it. Sure enough, it was Cas. 

I was correct, we have physics and English together. If you’d like, we could go to school together on Monday so I can show you around.  CN

Dean smiled at the text and the smiley face that was sent and replied. 

‘That would be awesome! What time? -D’

I leave around 7:15. Come over before then and I can drive us. CN

‘I’ll see you then -D’

Dean’s mood was lifting, but the conversation with his dad still had his skin itching, and he ached for a cigarette. He looked into one of the pockets in the front of his backpack, pulling out a half-squashed box, almost full of cigarettes that he double checked, seeing if any had been broken. Thankfully none had, because now he had no one who was of age to buy them for him. He would have to parcel these out until he could find another senior and ask them to be his nicotine dealer for the next couple of weeks. 

He thought it shouldn’t be too hard, since all the underclassmen were always bugging the seniors to buy them vapes and the juice. 

Dean found his lighter and opened his window, peering out into the dark. He had to jump a little to get on the branch and did so, then looked down and saw the white snow under the moonlight about twenty feet down and sighed. He crawled to the trunk, leaning against it facing his door in case John or Sam walked in so he could drop the cigarette as fast as possible. But he figured that his dad was already passed out after the long day or finding his way to the bottom of a bottle. 

His dad didn’t drink as much as he did when they first lost Mary, but some nights when the pain was too much, he still tried to fill the hole in his heart with liquor. 

Dean grabbed a cigarette from the pack, holding it between his lips, and rolled the wheel on the lighter so the flint sparked a flame. He cupped the teeny fire he held with one hand while bringing it against the end of the cigarette, inhaling so the paper caught. Once it had, he put the lighter back in his pocket, grabbing the cigarette between the knuckles of his middle and index finger and holding it so he could exhale. He took another drag, the burn of the nicotine catching in the back of his throat, but he kept inhaling, holding it for a couple seconds before letting it out. He blew the smoke up towards the sky, reveling in the way his head felt the nicotine for a brief moment. He stared at the cigarette in his hand, watching the blue smoke dance away from the paper wrapped tobacco. He pulled on it again, clenching his teeth from the cold. 

He was a quarter of the way done with the cigarette when the window behind him opened. 

“Dean? Are you…are you smoking?” 

Damn it. Cas. 

He put the cigarette in his mouth and maneuvered his way to the other side of the tree. The Novak boy was sitting with his arms crossed. Dean blew out a puff of smoke and grinned, the cigarette burning from the corner of his mouth. He made himself comfortable and took another drag. 

“Hey, Cas. And uh, yeah. I know it’s not good for me, but I’ve got an oral fixation, what can I say?” He shrugged and then refused to meet Cas’ eyes when he realized he just said what he said. 

“Why?” 

“Why do I have an oral fixation, or…?” Dean looked at Cas, whose eyes reflected like pale ponds in the moonlight. 

“No, why do you smoke?” He asked, tone seeping with exasperation. “How long?”

“I started a few months ago, after my mom died, alright? I watched my dad drown in booze and no matter how much I wanted to do the same, I couldn’t do that. My friends offered me all sorts of drugs to numb it all, but one day during lunch, someone offered me one,” he held up his hand so Cas could see it burning, now halfway done. Dean hated that he was wasting so much. “And it just…stuck. But I’m underage for a couple more weeks, so I can wait.” 

Cas sighed, unfolding his arms. “You’re not eighteen yet?” 

Dean shook his head, finally taking another inhale. He took too much, overly eager, and his eyes watered as he brought the smoke into his lungs, but he stopped himself from coughing. “I’m about to be, the twenty-fourth.”

“How often do you have one?” 

“Maybe three or four a day, depends on what I’m doing and when I can have one. There were days when I first started, I’d have an entire pack. I was buying a carton every week for a month, man.” Dean laughed. 

“I’ll be right back.” Cas disappeared from the window and Dean was able to finish the cigarette before he came back. He snuffed it out on the wet bark under him, making sure it was completely out so he could put the butt back in the pack. 

Cas came back wearing his jacket and crawled out the open window onto the branch Dean was on; this one was much closer and wider than the one on Dean’s side, and easily supported the boys’ weight. 

“Can I try one?” Cas stared directly into Dean’s eyes as he asked, chewing on his inner cheek. 

“Uh, I’ve only got a few left that I need to try to ration bu—,”

“I’ll buy you more if you need any before your birthday. I turned 18 in September. I just want to try one,” he interjected. 

Dean considered it; it was just a single cigarette, and the other teen had just offered to be the one to buy them for him so…

“Why the hell not, huh?” He smiled and dug the pack and cigarette back out. He handed one to Cas, who put it between his lips, and Dean lit the lighter, holding it to the end of the cigarette. But Cas didn’t know he was supposed to inhale when trying to light it, so it didn’t. 

Dean chuckled and took the cigarette from Cas’ mouth. “Watch,” he said, putting it between his lips, lighting it easily as he inhaled and puffed out smoke a couple times, effectively igniting it. He took an inhale, then handed it to Cas. “Inhale a little into your mouth, then pull it into your lungs. Not too much or else you’ll cough, got it?” 

Cas nodded and put the cigarette back in his mouth, doing as Dean instructed. He pulled the tube away from his mouth, holding his breath, then exhaled a little smoke. He made a face. 

Dean laughed again. “Not a fan?” 

Cas shook his head, but tried another drag, a little more this time. He blew the smoke out away from Dean, then shook his head again. “No, I don’t believe I am.” 

Dean took the cigarette and took a long drag, inhaling as he spoke. “It’s cool,” he exhaled. “It’s not for everyone. And I don’t recommend you getting addicted, it’s a waste of money.” 

“So why do you still smoke?” 

He shrugged. “It just became a habit. I conditioned myself to do it, almost. I’d always have one during my lunch break at school or work, I’d get one in before bed. If I was with my friends and they were smoking, I would too.” 

Cas nodded like he understood, but Dean couldn’t think of a bad habit that Cas could have to deal with his life. He seemed…pretty stable. 

“It’s cold out here. We should both be getting to bed.” 

“You doing anything tomorrow? It’s not that late.” 

“No, I have Sunday's off, from back when I used to go to church with everyone." 

“You wanna come hang out? Help me be all organized?” Dean joked. He didn’t want to go back to his room and sulk. 

Cas smiled and nodded. Dean took a moment to admire the dark-haired boy in the light from the moon. His hair looked black as the night, the moon reflecting off his skin made him pale, and his eyes…Dean wanted to swim in those pools. He thought of that briefly, a body of water being the same color as Cas’ eyes, the water warm like the smile he showed to Dean. 

“We’ll have to get down, though, I have to jump a little from my window to get here.” Dean started climbing down the tree, being careful of where the branches looked wet and icy. Cas followed, a little more slowly. They trudged through the snow to Dean’s front door, which was unlocked, and kicked off their feet before going inside. 

“Welcome to Casa de Winchester,” Dean said as they walked through the house. The house was silent, so his dad must have gone to bed. 

Dean led Cas upstairs to his room, where he still had music playing. 

“You do like cars,” Cas was studying the poster Dean had just put up. “And music.” 

Dean had put all his CD’s that he had burned on a shelf above his desk, his neat handwriting labeling each one with the album that was on it. He had all the tapes for these bands in his car already. Against his desk he had his guitar case leaning, the black case scuffed from years of ownership. “You play guitar?” 

“Yeah, I do. Have since I was like seven. I’m a big classic rock fan And I like to play for people.” He joked as he picked a box up to put on his bed and opened it. It had some frames and books in it so he started pulling them out. “I have to put up more shelves but that’s for another time.” 

Cas picked up a picture frame and smiled softly. “Is this your mother?” 

Dean looked at what he had in his hands. “Yeah. That was taken before we found out she was sick.”

It was Dean and his mother, Mary, sitting on a dock in front of a lake, both beaming ear to ear. Mary’s hair was golden, just a couple shades lighter than Dean’s, her eyes sparkling like someone had just told her a joke. She had her arm wrapped around her son, whose freckles stood out after him having been in the sun for a couple months during that summer. He leaned against his mother mid laugh, looking younger than he did now, even though the picture wasn’t even six months old. 

“She was beautiful. You look like her.” 

Dean smiled sadly, his heart twisting as he remembered the day this photo was taken. It was late August, one of the last days of summer before school started, and Mary had suggested they go to the lake one last time. John, who had been happy and so in love with his wife, had agreed and drove them all out for the day. Sam had been off on the sand after discovering a dog playing in the water. The rest of the family had stayed on the dock, enjoying the sun on their skin. John had taken the picture not even knowing the conversation Dean and Mary had been having, or else he wouldn’t have taken it. 

Dean had seen a boy around his age, maybe a little older, when they had all been sitting on the beach, before deciding to move away from the people. The boy had been playing in the water with his little sister and had made eye contact with Dean several times. Mary noticed, as she always did, so when they moved, she asked him about him quietly. 

He had blushed, embarrassed he had been so blatant about his infatuation with the stranger. 

“Don’t be shy about it, honey. You’re a gorgeous and amazing young man; have fun and explore now.” 

“Mom,” Dean had groaned, shooting a glance at his father, who was trying to figure out the camera. 

“I’m serious! He was a cutie, too.” She nudged her son. “I would have asked for his number for you.” 

Dean blushed harder. “I would die from embarrassment if you did that to anyone, guy or girl.” 

Mary feigned offense. “It’s my job to embarrass you, I don’t want to fail as a mother!” She threw her arm around her oldest son and he leaned into her. 

“You could never fail as a mother, you’re perfect.” 

“I know; Sam is a borderline genius and you’re…well, you’re alright,” she joked, making Dean laugh. They heard the click of a camera and looked over at John, who took another picture, the one that was in the frame Dean and Cas were looking at now. It was one of the last happy memories they had had as a complete family. 

“She was amazing, my best friend.” 

“Where do you want this?” 

Dean looked around the room. “Just on my desk. I’ve got a couple others in here.” He pulled out one of him and Sam when they were kids on Halloween, Dean as a cowboy and Sam as a cop. Another one that Cas grabbed was the entire family from Christmas. Dean looked much the same, but Sam’s hair was a couple inches shorter. 

“How old is this?” 

“I think 6 years? Kid’s hair grows so damn fast, you can’t judge it from that. That can actually just be put anywhere, I think my dad will want it downstairs.” 

Cas left it on the bed and grabbed a book. “You like Vonnegut?” He held up a beat-up copy of Cat’s Cradle. 

Dean grabbed it and flipped through it. “I love Vonnegut, this is one of my favorites. I like dark stuff, too, especially Sylvia Plath. I should have The Bell Jar in there.” 

“Plath? That is dark. I’ve read a lot of her stuff, but never The Bell Jar.” Cas found it at the bottom of the box. 

“Dude.” Dean dropped his novel. “You got to. Borrow my copy and read it.” 

Cas looked at Dean with wide eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah, man. I saw that wall of books; I know you’re a reader.” 

Cas looked at the novel in his hand, the front cover a black and white photo of a woman’s long skirt and legs, parts of it ripped from wear. He ran his hand down it and could tell that Dean cherished the books he had; all of them showed signs of being read multiple times over the years, this one seemingly the most. The spine was broken, and pages were dog-eared. And Cas, having read plenty of Plath’s poetry trying to find some answers from someone who was as messed up as he was, knew that Dean was a very sad boy. 

“I would love that, thank you, Dean.” Cas shot him a toothy grin, putting the book with his jacket that he had laid on Dean’s desk chair, then looked through the rest of the books the Winchester boy had, finding a couple of poetry that he hadn’t expected, but made approving noises for when he found them. He put them on Dean’s desk like he asked and put the empty box by the door. 

“Well, that’s really all we can do right now. Thanks for helping out, man.” 

“Anytime, thank you for inviting me over. I have enjoyed spending the time with you today.” 

“Me too. Glad I threw that snowball at you,” Dean smirked. “You want to hang out tomorrow? I want to explore and find a place to work. Get out of the house and away from needing to unpack.”

“Sure, I think I know a couple places that are hiring right now. What was your last job?”

“I was working for my Uncle Bobby at his mechanic-shop-slash-scrap-yard; he’s part of the reason I like cars. He helped me rebuild my dad’s old Impala when he got a truck when I was fifteen. But over the summer I worked at an ice cream shop my friend’s parents owned for some extra cash.”

Cas thought for a second. “There’s the pizza place downtown that’s looking for help, not sure what though. And an antique store on Main Street just got bought out from the old owners, so they’re hiring, too. We could go over there and look around if you’d like.”

“That’d be rad. You wanna come over like noonish and I’ll bring us around? We can grab lunch and I’ll ask around about jobs,” Dean asked. He hadn’t yet been able to drive his Baby around yet, only bringing her up from Kansas, following his dad who had the U-Haul. John would be leaving in a couple days to bring the moving truck back down and retrieve his own vehicle that was sitting in Bobby’s yard. 

“Sounds like a plan, Dean. I should be getting home,” Cas grabbed his jacket and the book, and the two went downstairs so Dean could see him out.


	5. Singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys venture downtown so Dean can find work and continue to learn more about each other. And, we get some Dean playing guitar and singing for Cas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a decently long chapter (10 pages in my Word Doc), so I hope you guys enjoy! I know my updates are a little weird, I don't really have a set schedule, but I got back to school at the end of the month so I want to pump out as much as I can before I have pretty much zero free time (fuck college tbh).

The next morning, Dean got up earlier than he normally would, so he could shower and put away some more of his things before Cas came over. He had put up another picture frame, of him and Sam from a few months ago, listening to his music, when John called upstairs to him. 

“Dean, the Novak boy is here for you!” 

Dean grabbed jacket and car keys, practically running down the stairs to find Cas and John talking. 

“My father is almost done with his latest book, I’m sure once he’s finished he will have more time to give you a proper housewarming.” 

“Your old man always was a busy bee,” John said. Cas nodded in agreement. 

“Hey man,” Dean interrupted, not quite trusting his father with polite conversation. He really didn’t know how to be tactful. “I’m ready whenever you are.” 

“As am I.” 

Dean slipped on his boots. “We’re gonna be downtown for a while. I’m trying to find a job,” he explained to his father. 

“Thought you were gonna come work at the shop with me up here. Bobby put in a good word for you.” 

Dean shrugged. “If I can’t find somewhere else, sure. Later, Dad.” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Winchester,” Cas said as he followed Dean out the door to the driveway, where Dean had Baby parked. 

The boys got in and Cas exclaimed his admiration for the vehicle. “It’s beautiful!” 

“I know, right?” Dean patted the dash. “Love of my life right here.” He turned the key and backed out of the driveway. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, Cas.” 

“Take a left at this stop sign, then a right at the first set of lights we come to,” he instructed. Dean listened to him, finally coming to the lights and signaling right, and took the turn. “Go straight through these next lights, and then a left after a couple of blocks onto Second Street, then bear left. That’ll bring us right onto Main Street.” 

It took about ten minutes to get to where Cas had instructed, Dean pulling into the center of town. On either side, cars were parked along the sidewalk, people bundled in winter coats and scarves walking in and out of the shops. Dean drove slowly, looking for a parking space, seeing that one SUV was trying to pull out to leave. Dean waited for this car, putting on his blinker so he could take the spot. When the vehicle left, he kept his blinker on as he parallel parked, his arm thrown over the bench seat as he turned the steering wheel with the other. Cas watched with a small smile on his face; he could barely parallel park without needing to try it a couple times, but Dean did it with ease. 

He threw the Impala into park and looked to the boy in his passenger seat. “Where to first?” 

“Why don’t we walk around a little? The pizza place is at the end of the street, so we can end there.” 

“Works for me,” Dean checked to make sure no one was about to pass his car and opened the door. He followed Cas over to the sidewalk and went to the corner, walking into a store called ‘Bloomer’s’. Immediately Dean was hit with the smell of dust and old books as he looked around at the gigantic store in front of him. There were large wooden shelves filled with antiques, from painted vases to old action figures, books everywhere in between. 

“Follow me, there’s something I think you’d like.” Cas grabbed Dean by the cuff of his jacket, leading him to the right of the store to a little side room. Dean gasped at what was in it. The entire room was filled with old records and tapes. In the center of the room was a table with boxes with even more records and Dean went over to flip through them. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just wanting to see what there was. Cas went over to one side of the small room, also browsing. He found one and came over to Dean. 

“Look, I found an Elvis one!” 

“You like Elvis? I wouldn’t peg you as that kinda guy,” Dean moved to another box. He pulled out a Johnny Cash record, showing it to Cas. “Now Cash? That’s the kind of music I could dig.” 

“Cash and Elvis knew each other, don’t hate on my man.” 

Dean laughed while shaking his head. He continued to find musicians he liked, briefly stopping to admire the case and then flicked through more. Cas watched Dean in his search. 

“Come on, there’s more.” Cas led him out of the room to deeper into the store. There were old bar signs and glasses, and Dean backtracked when something caught his eye. 

“Dude,” Dean held up a yellowed magazine. “They have vintage porn.” 

Cas inspected the old Playboy magazine that Dean showed him while rolling his eyes. 

“Dare me to buy it?” Dean wagged his eyebrows, earning another eye roll from the dark-haired boy. “Come on, you’re no fun.” 

They turned left to make a horseshoe around the store, the back wall covered in large, dusty mirrors. They looked heavy, Dean thought, made of solid oak. He looked at himself in one that was about a foot taller than he was, Cas off to his side, busy examining an old school desk. 

Dean watched the Novak boy, smirking as he inspected the little wooden chair. Cas was kind of a dorky, weird, little guy but…Dean liked him. He liked being around him; he didn’t spend as much time in his head when he was with Cas. He felt lighter, better…he wanted to be friends with Cas for as long as he could. 

He didn’t realize he was staring at Cas’ face until he noticed movement, which was Cas tilting his head in confusion, something Dean realized he did a lot. He flicked his eyes away from Cas’ and back to focusing on himself in the mirror. He put up finger guns at Cas, who chuckled and elbowed him as he walked by, leading Dean to a set of stairs hidden on the left side of the building. 

Dean could hear kids running around and laughing, along with the sound of something…motorized? When he reached the top step, he saw what was making that mysterious noise. 

The entire top floor had a giant model train set working. There were about eight giant tables that each had a different theme and town that the train visited, and kids and adults alike were gathered around every table. 

Cas gestured for Dean to go with him to one of the tables; when they approached it, Dean smiled. It was a winter wonderland theme, Evergreen trees covered in white, plaster mounds of snow with little plastic figurines doing wintry things: skiing down one of the hills, ice skating, some snowmen. 

“This is my favorite table; I love the winter.” Cas explained. “I like the cold and the snow and how it’s perfect to be alone warm in your room with a book, or cuddled with someone you care about.” 

Dean thought about it, and it sounded nice, the last part. Fighting back the season’s chill bundled under a blanket with someone, using each other’s body heat to keep warm, a movie on in the background that neither of you are paying attention to…

Dean shifted and broke himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah. But it gets dark so early and you can only do so much in the snow. I like autumn. Not too hot, not too cold.” 

“Autumn is very pretty and Halloween is always a plus.” 

Dean watched the train come around, passing the figurines, and walked to the next table, showing a regular train station with more plastic people, waiting patiently for the train to stop so they could board. But it never stopped, continuing on to another section. Cas was behind him, watching him watch the model locomotive make its way to all the tables. 

“I love this thing,” Dean finally said. “Thanks for bringing me here, man.” 

“Anytime. I used to come here with my mom when I was younger. I’d sit up here and make up little stories about the different people while she shopped.” Cas smiled at the memory. “When I miss her, I come here and watch the train, go around and try to find things she would like.” 

“That’s really sweet.” 

“You ready to go?” 

Dean nodded, taking one last look at the kids pointing out different things to their parents. His heart clenched at the thought of his own mother, how he wished she could be here in Illinois with them. 

They headed back downstairs and Cas sought out an employee so Dean could ask about an application. They came back with a couple sheets of paper for Dean to fill out, and he handed them back. 

“Great, I’ll give these to Steph to look at. Have a good one, guys,” the employee said, taking the papers back. 

The boys headed out, walking back down the street. Further down, they passed by a gift shop and Dean asked to go in, seeing gifts you normally didn’t expect to see. 

There were homemade bracelets and all sorts of brain teaser games, and Dean decided to get Sammy a 3D wooden puzzle. 

“Kid’s a brainiac, I bet he’ll have this done in under a minute,” Dean said after he got the gift bag. 

They decided to go eat next, crossing the street to the pizza place Cas had talked about. Inside was warm and had more space than you might have thought from looking at the outside of the building. Booths lined both side of the restaurant, and directly in front of you was the counter to order when you walked in. 

“What do you want? I’ll buy,” Cas looked at the menu above the counter. 

“No man, I can get my own,” Dean tried saying but Cas stopped him. 

“Let me buy lunch. You drove us here.” 

“It was a ten minute drive, that’s nothing.” 

Cas rolled his eyes. “You want to split a pizza? I’ll eat whatever, or we can do half and half.” 

Dean chewed his cheek, reading the menu. “How ‘bout half everything and then whatever you want?” 

Cas nodded and strolled up to the counter, the girl behind it looking bored. 

“What can I get for you?” 

“Can we have large house special, but one half no onions? And then two drinks.” Cas got out his wallet, handing it to the girl. 

“I’ll bring it out in like 20.” The girl disappeared to go find someone to make their pizza, and the boys grabbed drinks from a fridge off to the side, then settled into a booth. 

“You don’t like onions?” Dean asked after sliding into his seat. 

Cas scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t like the way they feel when I chew them if they’re cooked. Fresh onions, like on salad, I do enjoy.” 

“I love onions, always gotta have extra on burgers,” Dean said. “And burgers, man. Favorite food right there. I make a mean burger.” 

“They make good burgers here, too. Do you like to cook?” 

Dean took a sip of his Coke. “Love to. Most of the time I’ll cook dinner, because my Dad is kind of shitty at it. My mom was the cook of the family and taught me everything I know. We used to make pie together when I was younger.” Dean smiled at thinking of when he was little, him and his mother covered in flour while they rolled out crust. “She did everything homemade, no boxed stuff.” 

“Homemade is always the best. Anna usually cooks if she’s home, but Dad is good at it when he’s around, too. My cooking skills are pretty limited, but enough to survive on my own.” Cas fiddled with the paper on his bottle of water. 

“Maybe I’ll make you something, what’s your favorite dish?” 

Cas thought for a second. “Probably Alfredo. Pasta is usually my go-to to make.” 

“Oh, that’s easy to do. I got a recipe for it, too, courtesy of Deanna Campbell, my grandmother.” 

Cas smiled softly at Dean. Besides his family, he had never had anyone offer to make him dinner, let alone do it. He had always been pretty alone, never able to make friends close enough to spend time outside of school with. Dean was the first person who actually seemed interested in talking to him for more than just copying his homework. He was unsure of what to do when around the Winchester but hoped he was doing it right. 

“That sounds really nice, but you don’t have to do that, Dean.” 

Dean shrugged. “Why not? I like to cook, I like to see people enjoy my cooking. And you’re my friend, Cas, I can do things for you.” 

Cas blushed, tearing off the wrapper from his bottle. “I just don’t want you to think you have to do anything for me. I haven’t done anything to deserve...anything.” 

Dean sat back against the booth. He could see the red spreading across Cas’ face and realized that the kid really had never had anyone just do something nice for him without expecting anything in return. 

“Cas.” He sat forward, waiting for the other boy to look up at him. “I’ve known you for only a couple days, but believe me when I say this: you deserve everything good. Okay? So if I want to cook you something, just let me. You won’t owe me anything.” 

Cas searched Dean’s eyes, looking for any sort of untruth, but came up empty. He nodded. “Okay. I believe you.” 

Dean smiled and relaxed. “Good. Now, you like pie?” 

~ 

The boys ate their pizza, not talking much more as both enjoyed the greasy food. Dean decided he didn’t really want to ask about a job there because if he did work there, he’d probably gain so much weight from eating there all the time. 

They left, walking back towards the car on the opposite side of the street they came from. They passed by a music store and Dean backtracked, seeing something black glinting in the winter sun. 

“Dude, in here,” Dean went into the store, chimes ringing as he opened the door. The inside smelled similar to the antique store, wood and resin filling the air. He walked over to the window, where a Fender acoustic guitar sat, perched on a stand. He looked around for a worker while Cas found his way to keyboards. 

“Can I pick that one up?” Dean asked an older man sitting at the checkout counter, who looked like he was doing inventory. He pointed towards the guitar. 

“‘Course, son, thanks for asking. If you need anything else, just ask.” 

Dean went back to it, grabbing it from the stand and holding it. He strummed each string, finding that it was already in tune. He put his fingers into a G chord and strummed, the noise satisfying his soul. He continued playing, switching between a C to an F, and messing around with bastard chords he’d tried at home. 

Cas came back, finding Dean now perching on the little ledge that held up the instruments in the window, humming to himself and playing softly. 

“What song is that?” 

Dean looked up and stopped playing. “It’s something I wrote. I don’t have any lyrics to it or anything just yet, but I’m almost there.” He flashed a toothy grin at Cas and gestured for him to sit down. 

“Play it again. It sounded nice.” 

Dean obliged, playing just a little louder so Cas could hear it better, his fingers switching between the chords expertly. After a minute, he stopped, the chords being repeated with not much more to show without lyrics. Fuck, he needed to nail those down soon. 

“That’s so pretty, I feel like I know the lyrics that should go with it. Do you have any for it at all?” 

“Some, but only a few lines.” 

“Can I hear?” 

Dean considered it for a second. He was usually pretty bold with his musical talents, but that was only when he was playing other people’s songs. And they were in public, but they were the only customers in the store. He started playing from the beginning again. 

‘It can never be undone, what  
You said and did, you’re so far gone  
I’ve got an eye for the broken  
Take me back to where it began

Roses falling all around me  
I’ve got nowhere to go or to be  
Someone take me to a doctor  
Stitches cover top to bottom.’ 

Dean held out the last major chord, his fingertips pressing against the strings, softly strumming. He hadn’t sung in front of someone in a while. Not since his mom passed. 

“That was amazing, Dean.” Cas was smiling. 

Dean ducked his head. “You like it?” 

Cas nodded, smile stretching across his face still. Dean got up and put the guitar back, knowing he couldn’t afford it right now. Plus he had his own guitar back at home, a hand-me-down from an old family friend. 

“You play nice, son.” 

The one employee had come over when he heard Dean start singing, listening and watching the teen play. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Great voice, too. You looking for a job, by any chance? I’ve been looking for someone to help me out with guitars ever since my own kid went off to school.” 

“Really? That would be awesome, I’d love that!” Dean’s face lit up at the thought of being able to be in the music store for hours, playing his own songs when it was slow, showing people around and helping them find the perfect guitar. 

“Come ‘ere and fill out an application, just for formality’s sake, and the job is yours.” 

Dean and Cas followed the man back to the counter and the Winchester wrote down all his information. The employee looked it over to make sure everything was set. 

“Alright, pay starts at ten an hour; can you start Saturday?” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Great, kid. Come by the front at 9 and I’ll teach you how to open. Name’s Jim, by the way.” 

Dean reaches out his hand to shake Jim’s, smiling the whole time. “I’ll be here, Jim. Thank you so much.” 

And with that, the boys left, Dean now having some extra pep in his step as they made their way back to his Baby. 

“Well that was easy.” Cas said after they both got in. “You seem happy.” 

Dean drummed his thumbs along the steering wheel to the soft music playing on the radio. “I am! I had never thought about working at a music store but it’s perfect; I’ve been needing to start playing more and writing more, so maybe this will push me to do that. Thank you so much, Cas.” He looked over at the boy sitting next to him while he pushed the brakes for a stop sign. Cas looked back at him and smiled, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Cas really was a handsome guy. 

“I’m glad you found something so fast.”

“Me too, man. Today has been a good day. Too bad school tomorrow will end up ruining my mood.” 

“It won’t be that bad, I promise.” 

Dean turned onto their road. “It won’t be because I have you, but it’s not fun being the new kid. It’s our last semester of high school, too, which makes it worse. On top of normal senior things like prom and graduation and colleges, I get to worry about trying to make friends and get to know teachers.” 

“I hadn’t really thought of that but you’re right: you do have me.” Cas smiled to himself while Dean pulled into his driveway. “I have no doubt you’ll make friends easily though, you seem very likeable.” 

They were parked now, the car still running, Led Zepplin crooning softly from the speakers. “I don’t think I am anymore. I started to push people away, get mean. I burned practically all the bridges I had in Lawrence. I don’t know if I can be…good again.” Dean looked at his hands still wrapped around the steering wheel. He closed his eyes, remembering making Lisa, his ex-girlfriend, cry when he broke up with her a couple weeks after his mom passed. He said everything he could to make her hate him, for no reason at all, besides the fact that his was angry. He hadn’t been angry at her though, just the world. 

“Dean.” 

The Winchester opened his eyes to see Cas had slid closer to him on the bench seat, staring at him with his bright blue eyes. 

“You were mourning the loss of your mother, who you loved so much. Grief makes you do terrible things, things you would never do normally. I’m sorry.” Cas let Dean listen to his words before continuing. “But now’s your chance to start over. You’re still healing and you’re not hurting as much anymore. You’re going to be fine.” 

“You really think that?” Dean whispered, not trusting his voice because he could feel the tears threatening to come. 

“I know it, Dean. You wouldn’t be worried about it if you were a bad person deep down.” 

“How are you so…wise?” Dean chuckled, blinking fast to keep tears from falling. 

Cas shrugged and he was sitting close enough for their arms to brush. “Traumatic backstory?”

Dean laughed again, his sadness being washed away from Cas’ presence. He was already so grateful for him. He turned the car off and looked over. “Thank you again for today. And for telling me I’m not actually a shitty person.”

“Any time. So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll be over bright and early,” he flashed a toothy grin at Cas who returned a grin of his own. 

“Great.” 

They boys got out and Dean waved a goodbye to Cas as he walked home, Dean heading up his own front steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Dean sings is something I wrote, and the melody he plays is also something I wrote randomly when playing guitar. It’s meant to be sad, the chords going DCAmEm, so if people know how that sounds or how to play, there ya go, lol.


	6. Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets back home and tells his father something. Then the boys have their first day back to school!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I would have updated sooner but my best friend flew 1000 miles to come see me after almost two years of us not seeing each other, so I didn't have a chance to, or update much more. As of right now, I have chapter seven written so I'm gonna get on the ball and try to write at least up to chapter ten. Hope you enjoy!

As he walked in, he heard a football game playing in the living room, his father talking to the television as if the referee could hear him. 

“Take it we’re losing?” Dean walked into the living room and sat on the other end of the couch from his dad, noticing the scores on the bottom of the screen. 

“Stupid ref doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing,” John grumbled. “You were gone for a while?” 

“Out with Cas. I got a job downtown, at a music store. Start next weekend.” 

“You sure you want to work at a music store? What happened with working at the shop with me? Thought the hands-on experience would help you with college.” John took a swig from his beer bottle. 

“It’s not like I’ll be building anything my first year, Dad. And a job is a job. Working with instruments will help me with my own music. I haven’t been serious about it since Mom…”

“I know, kid. Nothing wrong with working there, but if you want to, I can’t stop you.” Another swig and sigh when the other team scored yet another touchdown. “You seem to like that Novak boy, huh?” 

Dean could feel the tops of his ears burn. “He’s nice to be around and it’ll be nice going into school knowing even just one person. He’s just a friend.”

“Didn’t say he was anything more. But, Dean,” John grabbed the remote and turned down the volume. “I, I want you to know that…well, if you did, you know, like Cas, or maybe a boy in general, I uh…” John scratched his head. “It’s okay. With me.”

“What?”

“I’ve seemed like a dick in the past when it comes to sexuality and your mom used to get mad at me, but. She told me over the summer that you weren’t just into girls, Dean. I had hoped it was just a phase but now that she’s gone, I don’t want to stay like that. So. If you’re gay or bisexual or whatever, just know, it’s okay.” John looked at his son, whose face was red and mouth agape like a fish. 

“Thanks…I guess. I don’t know what I am, I just know that I’ve been attracted to a lot of people.”

“Is Castiel one of them?”

“…I think so. But I just met him, and I don’t know what he thinks about that and I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I’d rather have him, just as a friend, than nothing at all.”

“Love is the strangest thing on Earth, Dean. It takes some people just one moment, others a lifetime. I fell in love with your mother the second I saw her but she didn’t like me very much at first.” John chuckled. “I won her over with Led Zeppelin and the rest is history. Just be yourself and if all he does want is a friendship, well, you can’t force it, and you have to move on.” 

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’m gonna go finish getting my room together. Big day tomorrow.” 

“Sure, kid.” John turned the tv back up as the ref yellow carded someone and he resumed arguing at the screen. 

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully, with Dean making pasta for dinner for everyone, since he and John had yet to be able to go food shopping. 

The next morning, Dean’s alarm went off before he was ready to be up. He groaned as the ringing persisted and he finally found his phone to shut it off, sitting up in his bed. He rubbed his face with his hands, sighing as he looked out the window. It was still dark out since it was the middle of January. 

Dean got up finally so he could go shower, grabbing a towel on his way into the bathroom. 

After a quick shower, he got dressed, pulling on light wash jeans, another black t-shirt, and a red flannel, checking his hair in the mirror before heading downstairs with his jacket and backpack. 

He toed on his boots and headed out the door, watching the sky begin to lighten on his way to Cas’ front door. 

Once there, he knocked, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door, which opened after a minute, showing Cas with his hair in a disarray like he just barely rolled out of bed. 

“Dean, hello. You are right on time.”

The Winchester teen adjusted his backpack. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be rude enough to not be when you offered, man.” 

Cas smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like all the other ones he had flashed at Dean, and he looked closer to see that Cas looked downright tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than Dean had seen yet, and his shoulders slouched a bit. 

“Let me grab my coat,” Cas disappeared, leaving the door open, and reappeared within a moment, now donning a black peacoat, his own backpack on now. He came out onto the porch, locking the door behind him. He started over towards the driveway, Dean following him over to a sleek black Mercedes SUV. There was a beep and the taillights flashed as Cas unlocked it, sliding into the front seat. Dean went to the passenger side and climbed in, whistling as he buckled his seat belt. 

“Damn dude, this is nice.” 

“Thank you. It was Anna’s old one; she handed it down to me for my 18th birthday and she upgraded. I was saving up to get my own since I was 15, after I had been using my mom’s, but she told me I should put that money towards school in the fall.” 

The car was running and Dean felt his ass and back start to get hot: heated seats, he realized, looking at all the buttons in the center of the dash between the boys. Cas messed with the radio, finding the local rock station. 

Cas put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway, heading down the road away from the cul-de-sac, turning in the opposite direction of where the boys went to go downtown. He drummed his thumbs along the steering wheel as some alternative rock song played. Dean looked out the window, watching kids their age walking to school or waiting on street corners for buses. 

The sun had risen completely by the time Cas pulled into the student lot and with the light, Cas seemed to be a little bit better than when Dean first saw him. He wanted to ask the dark-haired boy if everything was alright but he didn’t want to toe any unknown lines with his new friend. 

Cas found a spot relatively close to the school, which was about as large as the one Dean used to go to, the building made of dark brown bricks, three stories tall. Cars continued to come into the lot, teens piling out of the lot and into the school. 

“You ready?” Cas had his hand on his keys, waiting for Dean’s answer. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

The car’s engine shut off and the boys got out with their bags, walking together to the side entrance. 

“You have you class schedule?” Cas asked while he held the door open for Dean, where they walked into an open corridor, a hallway to their left, stairs a little ways ahead to the right. Their wet shoes squeaked on the dingy white linoleum. 

“Yup,” Dean got the folded up piece of paper with all the classroom numbers and teacher names on it, scanning it for his first class. “I have to go to Kaiser’s, room 211 first.” 

Cas nodded, leading them towards the stairs in front of them. “I’m glad we have first period together, this way you can find your way around.”

They made it to the next floor, kids milling about to their homerooms or standing by lockers. Cas continued down the hallway in front of them. “Right down at the end is Kaiser.” He pointed to the end of the hall where there was another set of stairs, kids walking up and down to go to their classes. 

Dean stared down the hallway, feeling his heartbeat in his temple, the vein pulsing as he tried to pull air into his lungs. They had stopped where they were, letting others pass by them to get into classrooms. 

“Come on,” Cas wrapped his fingers gently around Dean’s wrist, pulling him down the hall to the open door that would be where Dean began his day for the next four and a half months. 

With Cas still in front, they entered the classroom, finding half the room filled with students conversing and getting ready for the morning. Cas brought Dean over to the desk on the side of the room, covered in papers and hardcover books, where a middle-aged man sat, nose in a book. Mr. Kaiser. 

“Hey, Kais, this is Dean Winchester. He’s new.” Cas said, bringing the teacher’s attention away from the novel. 

“Castiel! How many times do I have to tell you to not shorten my last name like that?” 

“Would you prefer I call you ‘Rob’?” 

Mr. Kaiser laughed as he shook his head. “You are lucky you are one of my favorites, Mr. Novak. Now,” he looked at Dean. “You are Dean. It’s a pleasure to meet you, welcome to Senior Creative Writing.” 

“Happy to be here, sir.” Dean’s anxiety had decreased significantly once Cas had taken over, his warm fingers still around Dean’s wrist. He didn’t pull away until his new English teacher very obviously stared at the boys’ hands, and then shoved the hand that Cas had been gripping into his jacket pocket. 

Cas stiffened beside him at the loss of Dean’s wrist, but Dean watched his face go from showing emotion to becoming stone in a millisecond, and he immediately felt guilty for causing the hurt that had flashed across his face. 

Fuck. 

The warning bell rang, signaling for those who were lollygagging around the school to get to their classes. Mr. Kaiser stood and clapped his hands, silencing the students talking. 

“Alright everyone, get into your seats, as soon as the next bell rings, I’m starting.” He walked around his desk and lowered his voce to Dean. “There’s no assigned seats, so just grab an empty desk and be prepared to write for the prompt.” 

The boys headed to the back center where it seemed like nobody had made their claim yet and sat next to each other. Dean dropped his bag next to him, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He looked around, watching a couple stragglers come into the room moments before the final bell. Everyone seemed to be talking to each other, already having made friends years ago. And there he was, the new kid with only a semester left before graduation 

He kicked himself for making Cas sad just a minute before, when he pulled away, but it was a subconscious thing. He knew Illinois was a little more gay-friendly than Kansas, but it was his first day, and he didn’t want to make things harder for himself, or Cas for that matter. He still didn’t know if the boy was anything other than straight, since that was the default sexuality in everyone’s head. Dean didn’t want to ask and give Cas the wrong impression or make him uncomfortable. Like he had said to his father, he would rather be Cas’ friend than nothing at all. 

He glanced over at Cas who was getting out a notebook and a pencil, his face still void of any emotions. Dean watched as he straightened up, running a hand through his already messy hair and briefly imagined doing that himself, carding his fingers through the boy’s messy brown locks, tugging gently when he reached the nape. He shook his head to get a hold of himself. Friends or nothing, he reminded himself. 

The bell finally rang, and Mr. Kaiser began his lecture. “To start the semester, I want to give you all an easy prompt, one that anyone can talk about. This prompt is very open-ended, so you can write about one person or multiple, your family, friends, or significant others. Don’t hold back, be as cheesy as you want, I don’t mind,” he chuckled. He turned around to the whiteboard and wrote, revealing the board again when he was done. 

In big letters was the phrase ‘LOVE’. 

Fuck, Dean thought. Today is going to be a very long first day.


	7. Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of their first day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think I've said this before but I am so bad at chapter summaries. Sorry. Enjoy, though!

After fifteen minutes of writing, Dean dropped his pen and shook out his hand. His wrist had started cramping from nonstop writing and he took a break for a minute, reading through the couple of pages he had written. 

He started with writing about Sam, of course, because there was no one else he loved more in the world than his little brother. 

‘Sammy, my brother, is everything I am not and everything I wish I could be. He’s smart as a whip in everything. He’s always been top of his class and is a smart ass more often than myself. The kid is going to grow up to do amazing things, I just know it.’ He wrote a whole page and a half just about Sam. 

‘I love my dad, too of course. We’ve all had a rough time, but he never let his grief become more than would allow him to take care of us. 

I love my mom. I miss her more than anything every day. She was my closest friend and encouraged me to be myself, to love who I fell in love with without any fear or hesitation, because I shouldn’t have to hide my feelings, as she put it once. I always wish she was still alive when I have a bad day. Like today, first day at a new school. But I guess if she was alive still, then I wouldn’t even be here. 

And…if I wasn’t here, then I wouldn’t have met Cas.’ 

This is where he had stopped to take a break. He had only known Cas a couple days, but he felt like their friendship would be solid, and he loved his friends back in Kansas, like Benny and Eileen. So why couldn’t he say he loved Cas, too?   
While Dean was going back and forth about what more to write about Cas, Mr. Kaiser got back in front of the class and told everyone to put down their writing utensils. 

“Now, we are going to go around and I want you guys to read from your writing. You don’t have to read all of it, but at least a page of it, and that should bring us to the end of class, and then I’ll give you the weekly prompt. We’ll start in the front.” 

Dean felt the blood drain from his face at the prospect of having to read his paper out loud and he scanned through it as the first row got through their own pieces, gushing about their boyfriends and girlfriends and family. 

Finally, it was Dean’s turn, and he took a deep breath, reading from when he started writing about his dad because that’s where he had stopped reading in his head before his turn. 

“And…if I wasn’t here then I wouldn’t have met…Cas,” Dean finished in a rush of words, the blood coming back to his cheeks, warming his entire face. He could feel Cas’ gaze on him but refused to look back, squirming in his seat. 

After a bet, Cas began, his deep voice calming Dean down. 

“I find this prompt rather difficult to write about, because of course I could tell you about my familial love, which there is plenty of with my large family, but I only have one other person I could write about in terms of love, and that is my only friend, Dean.” 

Dean finally looked over at Cas at the mention of his name, his eyes wide in surprise. 

“Dean came into my life unexpectedly but he quickly became someone I care about very much. From the moment we met, I felt a need to care for him and see him happy, something I have never experienced before. Seeing him smile makes me smile, and honestly, I am unsure of how to be a good friend to someone, but I hope that I can be good enough for him.” 

Cas finished, staring straight ahead at the board as Dean continued to look at him. He could see the flush rise up Cas’ neck from embarrassment. 

There were only a couple more kids that read aloud after Cas and finally it was over, and Kaiser handed out papers with the homework for the week. 

“So, I want you guys to try to write at least 1500 words for this prompt and have it printed out for next Monday. The rest of the week we’re going to work on building dimension in stories so please, come prepared to write every day. I don’t care how you do it, on paper, on your laptop, tablet, even your phone.” 

The bell rang and everyone made to get up. 

Dean and Cas were the last to get up but their teacher stopped them at the door. 

“You boys did well today; I thought it was very moving that you both wrote about each other for this prompt.” 

Dean shuffled in place at the compliment, his flush returning. 

“Thank you,” Cas replied, his voice monotone. 

“I’m glad that you two have become friends. To be honest, Cas, I was getting a little worried about you. He’s a good one,” Kaiser turned to Dean now. “And from what he said, he cares about you, so I hope it’s mutual.” 

Dean was silent from the shock of this conversation but nodded. 

Kaiser smiled and waved towards the door. “Then you’re all set to go, boys. Enjoy the rest of your day back.” 

The boys left in silence, shuffling along with the crowds in the halls. 

“What’s your next class?” Cas finally broke the quiet between them. 

“Calculus, downstairs. I think I’ll be able to find it myself.” Dean said, taking out his schedule again. 

“Okay. Physics is on the first floor, too, so I’ll see you there.” 

Dean stopped, grabbing at Cas’ jacket. “Cas, wait. I want to apologize for earlier.” 

Cas stopped, finally looking at Dean. “For what? You did nothing wrong.” 

“For pulling my arm away before class. I just didn’t want Kaiser to get the wrong idea, you know? He was staring at our hands.” 

Cas blushed but turned away, clenching his eyes. “Don’t worry, Dean. I doubt anyone will think anything of it, they take one look at you and immediately pair you up with a gorgeous girl, not someone like…” he trailed off. 

Dean frowned at that. “Someone like what?” 

“Like me, a guy.”

“Cas, that’s not what I meant, I--,”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you in physics.” Cas shrugged Dean’s hand off his arm and walked the opposite direction Dean was going, so he had no chance to go after him, not unless he wanted to risk being late. 

~

Math class went by slowly and Dean reckoned it had to do with how much he wanted the class to be over so he could talk to Cas again. When the bell finally rang, he jumped out of his seat and raced out to find his next room, searching for Cas in the sea of students. He didn’t see the mess of dark-brown locks so he went into the classroom and introduced himself to his physics teacher. 

She said to sit anywhere, telling him that he’d be paired up with whoever sat next to him by the time class started. He waited for Cas to show up, tapping his foot impatiently under the long black desk. 

Cas was one of the first to filter in and immediately found Dean. He hesitated for a moment, eyes wide, then brought down the walls around his emotions like Dean had seen him do twice already today. Cas walked over to Dean’s desk. 

“May I sit here?” 

“I was hoping you would,” Dean replied, scanning his friend’s face. “We should talk more about what happened, Cas.” 

The Novak boy sat in the seat next to Dean, laying his head on his folded arms, looking at Dean. “Not now, okay? After school?” 

“Sure.” Dean watched as Cas’ eyes closed, again noticing just how tired he looked. He would ask him about that, too, he decided. After school. 

~

The remainder of the day went by faster now that Dean knew that they’d be able to talk, that for now they were okay. Him and Cas were okay. 

When the final bell rang, he waited for Cas back at the door they had come in from. He finally saw Cas walking towards him in the crowd and couldn’t help but smile as he saw those blue eyes find him. 

“You ready to go?” Cas asked when he finally got to Dean. 

“Yup. How was the rest of your day?” 

Cas shrugged, heading outside towards his car. “Senioritis is in full swing, I think. I started counting down the days to graduation.” 

They got in Cas’ car, cold from sitting there in the January air. He started it and turned down the radio, turning towards Dean. 

“I’m sorry about being short with you today. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“No, Cas, you don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who fucked things up, I didn’t want to hurt you or make you think anything bad.” 

Cas gripped the steering wheel, facing the windshield now. “You didn’t hurt me, it’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have held onto you like that, I get how some people probably looked at that and made assumptions about you. If you had been with anyone else, it would have be fine, but everyone knows about me, so it’s not.” 

“What do you mean by ‘knows about you’?” 

Cas sighed and closed his eyes. “Dean. I’m not...straight.” 

Dean nodded slowly, his chest blossoming with warmth. He could have a chance. 

‘No, shut up, friends or nothing,’ he thought. 

“That’s okay. I’m not either. Not entirely, I guess,” he joked. Cas looked over at him again, eyes wide. 

“Are...are you bi?” 

Dean nodded, grinning at his friend. “I’ve never been out before though, besides to my family and a couple close friends. I had a boyfriend over the summer a couple years back but when he found out I wasn’t only into guys, he dumped me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Cas mumbled. “I don’t want to be the one to out you, especially not by accident by holding your hand.” 

“I’m not worried about it anymore. It was a reflex, I think. Kansas is pretty old school so I’m still used to that. But hey, now we both know about each other,” he continued smiling, hoping to lift Cas’ spirits, even just a little. “And fuck what other people think. You’re a good lookin’ guy, if people thought we were together, I wouldn’t be offended or anything.” 

Cas raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m attractive?” 

Dean blushed and looked away from Cas, speaking quickly. “Anyone with eyes can see that, man. Nobody’s ever told your that or hit on you?”

Cas sighed. “Not many, or often. I had one boyfriend, if you could even call him that. But he just wanted sex and when I started wanting more, he told everyone about me, said nothing about himself being gay, though.”

Dean looked back at Cas, watching his face fall as he told his story, then rebuild the walls he seemed to have up around everyone else but Dean. But this was different, Cas had really been hurt by whoever this guy was, he thought. 

“I’m sorry, Cas. You deserve more than that; all the best parts of being with someone, everything more than just sex.” 

“Thank you, Dean, that…that really means a lot,” Cas cleared his throat as his voice wavered. “Let’s go home, yeah?” 

“Let’s go home,” Dean echoed, smiling softly at Cas.


	8. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend after school doing homework and making...pie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write about Dean actually cooking since I started this fic so here it is! I have the next chapter written and started chapter 10. As an early warning, chapter 9 will have trigger warnings for SH and mental issues, throughout the entire chapter but SH comes around towards the end. I'll of course put that in the notes for next chapter but I want people to know that it will get graphic next week. 
> 
> And a wee spoiler, 9 and 10 will have the teeniest bit of Destiel (nothing romantic or set in stone yet, just some friendly fluff). I might end up fast forwarding them through a couple months so that I can write a prom chapter. 
> 
> And as today is Dean's birthday, chapter 10 will include mention of that! I regret not having this pic line up with current dates, but if I had, then I also wouldn't be able to have Dean smoke since Trump just changed the laws in US for tobacco to 21 instead of 18. Anyways. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next week went by in a blur. Dean had finally been able to memorize where he needed to be and when, no longer needing to refer to his schedule sheet. 

He was enjoying his computer class the most, which was technically an engineering class. The first half of the semester they were going to learn to use CAD, specifically to design a car run on CO2 cartridges, and the second half they would build miniature bridges to scale and see how much weight they could hold. 

Physics he was already starting to struggle in, but Cas told him after their first quiz (Dean got a 70 on it, but Cas aced it), that he wouldn’t mind helping Dean out learning the material better. 

This conversation happened that first Friday, after school. 

They were in Dean’s car this time. They had decided that every other day they’d bring each other to school and back. 

“I gotta be able to pass this class with at least a B, dude.” Dean griped at a stop light. 

“We have that new chapter to read for Monday and the problems to do for it, I could help you try to make more sense of it.” 

“That would be great, actually. You want to when we get back?” 

“Sure; I need to write for that prompt for Creative Writing, too. I’m halfway through but I got stuck,” Cas explained. 

“I’m almost done with mine. I need it proofread though. You wanna do that, too? And I’ll go through yours?” 

“Perfect.” 

The boys pulled into Dean’s driveway and headed inside the Winchester house. John was still at work and would be for a couple more hours, and Sam had joined the debate team, so he was still at high school, where John would pick him up. 

“You hungry?” Dean hung up his jacket by the front door with Cas following suit. They wandered into the kitchen, Dean opening up his fridge and perusing what he had in there. 

“I can make us sandwiches, or some leftover spaghetti, but I know Dad was excited that I made extra so maybe not…oh!” Dean stood straight and looked at Cas, who was leaning against the counter by the sink, with a big smile. “I can make us pie. I grabbed everything for it the last time we went to the grocery store. You like blueberry?” 

“Sounds good. Where do we start?” 

Dean opened the freezer and grabbed his bag of frozen blueberries (he didn’t like to use frozen fruit but it was cheaper and lasted longer). “First we need some flour.” 

The Winchester teen opened a cupboard next to the fridge and pulled out a black binder and brought it over where Cas was standing. He flipped it open, revealing handwritten recipes. He searched through the pages until he came to a separator that was labelled ‘DESSERTS’, turning to the next page that had a pie crust recipe on it. 

“Was this your mother’s?” Cas asked as Dean started opening cupboards to find all the ingredients for the crust. 

“Well, the binder she put together. Most of the recipes are her mother’s, but she rewrote them as the original cards got old. She added some of her own or tweaked the recipes; I have a couple in there that I’ve put in there, too, but not many.” Dean came back over with flour, salt, shortening, and butter, along with a mixing bowl and measuring cups. 

“Can you measure out the flour and salt into this while I cut the butter and shortening?”   
“Of course,” Cas got the flour and salt sifted together, pushing the bowl over for Dean to drop the small pieces of fats into it, then he stirred it some more. Moving to the sink, Dean brought the bowl over and measured out water, pouring in a tablespoon at a time. 

“It’s important to add it slowly like this so you don’t use too much water,” Dean explained as he stirred with a rubber spatula. Finally, Dean got the consistency he wanted and moved back to where Cas was with the binder. 

He grabbed a handful of flour from the bag, sprinkling it on the counter, using the rest on his hands to cover the dough ball he created. He divided the piece into two, continuing to use the flour from the counter to make them into little discs. 

“There’s plastic wrap in the drawer behind you, can you grab it and tear me off some pieces? This needs to cool for a bit. Usually I’d leave it in the fridge for a couple hours, but I’m hungry now and it’ll take long enough to cook, so it’s going in the freezer for an hour.” 

Cas got the plastic for Dean and helped him cover the dough, then they were put into the freezer near the ice so they’d cool as quickly as possible. 

Dean quickly wiped down the counter. “Let’s make the filling real quick, and then   
we can work on physics while we wait and then when it’s in the oven, we work on Creative Writing?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

~

“Does that make more sense now?” 

Cas was sitting close to Dean, leaning over Cas’ physics textbook looking at the last problem they were assigned. Dean nodded, finishing up the equation, trying to focus on the words on the page rather than the heat coming from his friend or the way he smelled, a mixture between some popular men’s deodorant and something sweet, like vanilla or honey, which Dean figured must be Cas’ shampoo. 

He put down his pencil and sat back, putting some space between them. “That was so much easier now than when she explained it. Thanks. Now that we’re done, let’s go make some pie, yeah?” 

The boys went back into the kitchen where Dean grabbed the dough and filling, putting more flour down on the counter, putting some powder on a rolling pin and rolling the dough into large, thin circles. He grabbed a pie pan then, expertly, wrapped one dough circle around the rolling pin and unwrapped it onto the pan, not a single tear anywhere. 

Dean finished the pie, adding melted butter and sugar to the top crust, then put the pie in the oven he had pre-heated about ten minutes beforehand. 

Once again he cleaned up and set a timer on his phone. “Alright, we got about forty-five minutes until this is ready, so, story time?” 

“Story time, unfortunately.” 

Dean laughed at Cas’ sullen face. “You don’t like the writing?” 

Cas shrugged as the boys sat back at the dining room table. “It’s alright but I just get stuck so often I get discouraged. I’d take more physics homework over this assignment.” 

“Well, lemme see what you’ve got so far,” Dean took over Cas’ laptop that he had pulled out, his story already pulled up. 

Their prompt had been pretty open ended, Mr. Kaiser wanting to let them off easy for the first assignment. All they needed to do was create a plot but give it no ending. He wanted a thought out character and there to be a problem, but no solution. The whole point of it was to build dimension, Kaiser had explained. 

Dean offered Cas his computer in return to read through hid couple of pages. They sat in silence as they scanned each other’s work. 

“This is…excellent, Dean,” Cas said after a few minutes. “I feel like this could be amazing if you ever wanted to keep writing it.”

“Really? Thanks! I like yours, too.” Dean wasn’t just saying that to be nice, he had been enraptured by Cas’ prose and interested by the issue he wrote about, which was a young girl’s attempt to learn about the world just through the window in her bedroom, which she wasn’t allowed to leave. Cas had stopped about a paragraph away from the word minimum. “I think you should add something more about the birds she sees at the beginning of your story, so it can be like, circular, if that makes sense?” 

Cas nodded and they swapped laptops. Cas’ fingers flew across the keyboard where he described the girl wishing to be like the birds that nested in the tree outside her window, so she could travel the world anytime she wanted. With a sigh of relief, he saved the document and cracked his neck. 

“I’m gonna check on the pie,” Dean looked at his phone, seeing there was still fifteen minutes left on his timer. He was itching for a cigarette but didn’t want their dessert to burn. 

The crust was still too white to be ready yet so he came back to Cas who was packing up his backpack.  
“You mind if I have a smoke real quick?” 

“Besides the fact that cigarettes are terrible for you, no I don’t mind.” 

“Alright, Sassy. I’m gonna go climb up the tree, if you want to go with me.” 

Cas followed Dean outside, both donning their jackets and shoes again, over to the tree. They climbed up to the same branches they’ve sat on twice now. 

Dean leaned against the trunk with his shoulder, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The first pull he took burned his throat but he didn’t care. 

Cas sat on the branch opposite him, looking up into the sky where the tree’s limbs got smaller and smaller. 

“You should really quit. Those things ruin your lungs and the nicotine addiction is terrible,” Cas said after Dean had blown smoke rings in front of him. 

“I know but...it’s kind of comforting, you know? The burn of it when I inhale.” 

Cas turned his eyes down to the ground. “Physical pain is easier to deal with than emotional, I understand.” 

Dean watched the Novak boy adjust his jacket to cover his hands and furrowed his brow at the comment. “Well, yeah. But I still think it’s better than me losing myself in a bottle of whiskey.” 

“True, but there’s plenty of other physical things to numb your pain, not any better. If anything,” Cas ran a hand through his mess of hair. “They’re worse sometimes. We’re all addicted to something.” 

“You got something to tell me?” Dean joked, finishing his cigarette. He killed the end of the flame and put it back in his pack. 

Cas looked at Dean with his bright blue eyes, a shadow of fear flitting across them. He contemplated for a second, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to say something. 

“Like I said, we’re all addicted to something to numb the pain.” Was what he decided on instead, leaving Dean worrying about what Cas could possibly be needing to numb through his own addictions. 

“We should check on the pie, it’s getting late, and it’s definitely going to spoil our appetite for dinner.” 

Cas started scaling down the tree and waited for Dean at the bottom. He led the way back into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. 

The smell of the buttery crust and sweetness of the blueberries filled the room and Dean felt his stomach growl. They’d already been out of school for nearly 3 hours now, which was close to dinner time. His dad and Sam would be home in another hour, meaning Dean would have to heat up the spaghetti left in the fridge. 

Dean turned the oven off after inspecting the pie, which was now a golden brown, and placed it straight into the fridge. 

“Gonna leave it there for like ten, let it cool down, then we can eat.” 

They stood around the kitchen playing on their phones. Cas looked to be reading something as he scrolled slowly on his own cell. Dean checked his Facebook, finding nothing interesting enough to catch his attention. 

After the ten minutes Dean grabbed the pie again, cutting it into eight slices. He asked Cas to grab them plates and forks then served both of them, the pie still giving on steam, but not so hot the filling was messy and coming out of the crust. 

They went back to the dining room table and Dean waited for Cas to take the first bite. 

He let out a soft moan as he closed his eyes and chewed the bite he took. Dean’s ears got red at the sound he let out. 

“This is amazing, Dean, wow.” Cas took another bite. 

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” Dean took a bite himself and smiled at his masterpiece. The crust was flaky and buttery, the filling itself the perfect sweetness. He remembered the first time he made pie with his mom, only six years old and he had gotten covered in flour about five seconds into starting baking, but Mary didn’t care. She knew her son was having fun helping her roll out the dough with his pudgy fingers. 

Dean missed her desperately. He wished she was there now, so she could have made the pie herself because it always tasted better when she cooked. So that she could have met Cas and told Dean exactly how to go about wooing the boy instead of letting him go back and forth with his feelings. 

Because despite him telling himself that he was okay with them just being friends, every day he learned more about Cas, and every day he started to fall for his friend more and more. Dean knew they hadn’t known each other long but what could he say? He had always been a hopeless romantic and fell fast. It took him about a month into knowing Lisa to ask her out, and only another week after that to reveal his feelings (in so few words, he wasn’t big on actually saying ‘I love you’, even when others said it to him). 

Cas dropped his fork onto his plate when he finished his slice. 

“That good?” Dean asked, shoving his last bite into his mouth. 

“It was. Worth the wait. If the rest of your cooking is like that, then you’re very talented, Dean.”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” Dean smirked. “One of these nights I still gotta make you dinner and not just fill you up with sweets.”

“I’d love that, because as much as I enjoyed the pie, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth; only Gabriel really likes sugary stuff in the family.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ dish along with his. “You want to bring him back a slice? You can take another one for yourself, too.”

“Thank you, that would be nice, he would love that. But fair warning,” Cas turned to Dean with a serious face. “Gabriel will always be bugging you for more.” 

Dean laughed at Cas’ deadpan gaze. “I think that would be okay; you both can come over for after dinner activities, or I bring something over for everyone.” 

“Just be aware, Gabriel doesn’t know how to stop with his sugar.” 

“Alright, consider me warned then.” Dean went back into the kitchen again, grabbing two more slices and putting them on a plate, covering the food in plastic wrap. He brought it back to Cas, who was zipping up his backpack. 

“Thank you again for today. I really enjoy spending time with you.” 

Dean smiled softly. “Me too. Thanks for help with physics, it makes more sense the way you explained it. Just don’t get sick of me before the semester ends,” he teased. 

“I doubt I could get sick of you; if anything, I worry that you’ll get tired of me.” Cas’ voice was small and almost weighed down by something that Dean couldn’t place. 

“I won’t. You’re stuck with me.” 

Cas smiled in Dean’s favorite way, the way he only smiled with the Winchester: toothy and showing his gums, eyes crinkling and bright. Dean could feel his heart swell with happiness knowing he made Cas smile like that. 

“I’ll see you later?” Cas shouldered his bag. It had become a habit of the boys to talk at night when Dean snuck out to the tree so he could have his nightly cigarette or two (which Cas had bought him another pack after school Tuesday, half as a way to apologize for his behavior the day before), since Cas was always sitting in the window reading or doing homework. Cas would open his window, grabbing an extra layer to stave the cold. Dean would ask Cas about the book he currently had his nose shoved in or they’d talk about their classes and the drama that was happening. It helped Dean learn more about their classmates and he had started looking forward to it for more than just his nicotine fix. 

“’Course. I start that job tomorrow so I probably won’t be outside too late.” 

Cas nodded, understanding. “Thanks again for the pie, Dean. Have a good night.” He walked himself out, leaving Dean alone in the house that had grown dark in the late January evening, and cold without Cas’ presence. He sighed and checked the time. His dad should be getting Sam now and that meant they’d be back soon. He decided now was as good a time as any to start heating up dinner so it would be ready by the time the rest of his family got home.


	9. Revealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a panic attack after Cas leaves, causing him to finally open up to his friend about his issues. In response, Cas shows Dean something he's never shown anyone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PANIC ATTACKS, ANXIETY, MENTIONS OF DEATH, SELF-HARM, DEPRESSION.
> 
> IF ANY OF THESE WILL TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ! YOUR SAFETY AND WELL BEING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN READING A CHAPTER. 
> 
> I struggle with all of these issues myself, and still get triggered by reading others write about SH, but try to not act on those triggers. Please, if you think that any mention of these will cause you to harm yourself or others, skip. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the boys opening up to each other.

By the time his father got home, Dean was plating the leftover spaghetti for John and Sam. He left the plates on the counter to go greet them, ruffling his little brother’s hair. 

“You need a haircut, Sammy.” 

Sam slapped Dean’s hand away with a scowl. “The girls like it long.”

Dean gasped, overexaggerating his motions. “Girls? Multiple? Sammy, are you a player?”

“No! I don’t mean that I talk to a lot of them, but a bunch comment on it.” 

“There one you like more?” 

Sam started to blush and pushed his hair back into place. “Kind of. Her name is Jess. She’s pretty and smart and wants to be a nurse.” 

Dean chuckled at his obviously lovestruck brother. The younger Winchester hadn’t ever really had a girlfriend before, since he was just entering high school, but Dean remembered the days of his first crushes. “I’m glad you met someone cool, I hope she can deal with your nerdiness.”

“Dean, stop pestering your brother. I smell that spaghetti and I’m starving.” John made his way past his sons to the kitchen, grabbing a plate and dug in while leaning against the counter. The boys followed him, Sam taking the other plate and scarfing it down. 

“Careful, you’re gonna get hiccups,” Dean watched Sam slurp another bite of pasta noisily, sauce building up at the corners of his mouth. 

“Shut up, Mom.” He threw back then his eyes widened as he realized what he said. Dean froze at the word ‘mom’; they hadn’t made any mention of that term since the week after the funeral, they never talked about her, and both boys felt the weight of her loss more heavily now. 

“I just don’t want to hear you making noises all night,” Dean finally said, his voice tight. “There’s pie in the fridge, I’m going to shower.” 

Dean bound up the steps, his limbs feeling like static. He ran into the bathroom, leaning his back against the door, breath shallow as he felt a panic attack coming. He slid to the floor, dropping his head in his hands while his chest tightened. He felt like someone was sitting on his chest while memories of his mother flashed behind his eyes. He saw her standing in their bathroom back in Lawrence, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. She had been brushing her hair and pulled out a clump, when Dean had walked by, witnessing her holding a large lock of golden hair in her palm. It was something he wasn’t meant to see, these side effects of her worsening condition, but she had left the door open. 

Another came after, of her coming home after seeing the doctor one of the last times before she went to the hospital to spend the remainder of her days. John had brought her back and she had slumped down into a chair at their dining table, looking as tired as Dean had ever seen her. He had gone to sit with her as she sobbed silently, holding her hand. 

And then finally, the last day she was alive. It had been a good day, for her at least. Color had come back into her cheeks and her smile had finally reached her eyes, for the first time in months, as Dean and Sam sat by her hospital bed. She had asked Sam to go get them all something sweet from the cafeteria where John already was getting another cup of coffee. When her youngest son had left, she had grabbed Dean’s hand, telling him how much she loved him. She had told him that no matter what happened, to always be true to himself and his heart, and to love others the way she had taught him. 

Dean opened his eyes and let out a cry, loneliness filling him. He just wanted to be able to get through a day without feeling her absence, without bordering on the verge of tears when there were little things that reminded him of his mother. It had been a few months already and as Dean was not one for intense feelings, he wanted to push down all his sadness and anger. 

He focused on his breathing, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth, until his shaking was minimal and he could stand to shower. He turned the water as hot as it could go, standing under the scalding water. He scrubbed at his skin until he was bright red, then finally turned the faucet off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went into his room to get dressed. 

He still felt a little shaky, now dressed in thick sweatpants and an old rock shirt. He paced around his room, tidying up while energy flowed through him. He glanced at his phone, seeing it wasn’t even eight o’clock, so he threw on a sweatshirt and his jacket, slipping into shoes. He shut his door, grabbed his cigarettes, and opened his window. 

It was pitch black out, the moon and bedroom light illuminating the yard and tree in front of him. He saw Cas’ outline in the Novak boy’s window; he looked to be highlighting a large book. Dean climbed out his window, expertly crawling onto the branch and over to his neighbor’s side of the tree. 

He picked up some snow and tossed it at the window, startling Cas. The boy smiled seeing his friend again and opened the window. 

“Thought you were going to bed?” 

Dean shrugged and got comfortable, his leg bouncing. “It’s earlier than I thought and the last hour has kind of sucked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do…do you want to talk about it?” 

Dean lit a cigarette and shrugged again as he inhaled the smoke. “Just started thinking about my mom again. Had a panic attack, burned myself in the shower. Decided to have a smoke.”

Cas leaned out the window with concern painting his face. “A panic attack? Don’t act so nonchalant about it, that’s a big deal. Are you okay?”

“It isn’t, and I am. I’ve always dealt with them; usually they’re random but I get them a lot more now without my mom.”

“Do you take medication for them?”

“No, I just hope they’ll start to lessen to what they were a few months ago,” he took another drag. 

“Therapy?”

Dean barked out a short laugh while shaking his head. “Talking about my feelings isn’t exactly my forte.” 

Cas rolled his eyes. “It might help you to talk to someone. You don’t even have to talk about your mom, you could just talk about school or work. Anything, really.” 

“I just don’t see the point.” 

“In talking?”

Dean took out another cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. “In anything.” He lit the cigarette, closing his eyes as he took a long drag, tears threatening to come again. He would not cry twice in one night, especially not in front of Cas. 

“Dean?”

He opened his eyes at his name, meeting Cas’ eyes that were full of sadness. He hated seeing that from him. He didn’t want pity. 

“See, that’s why I never open my mouth,” Dean laughed dryly. “People look at me like I’m a kicked puppy or some shit.”

“Dean…,” Cas said again, softer this time. 

“No, Cas, damn it!” Dean finally broke. “I don’t want to talk about how I don’t feel like being alive, about how I feel like I’m going to end up just like my dad did the first month after she died, at the bottom of a fucking bottle every night! I don’t want meds that will turn me into a zombie just to numb some of the pain when I’ve got ways to do that already.”

He ran a finger through his hair, flicking away ashes. “Fuck.”

Cas stayed at the window throughout the yelling, which Dean was surprised at. He was used to pushing people away. 

Another beat passed before Cas spoke again. “You know you did just talk about…those things? With me?” 

Dean met the boy’s eyes again. “I know. But you’re not a stranger, and, and you get it. Don’t you?” 

“I do understand what you’re going through a little bit. But I’m not a medical professional.” 

Dean sighed before pulling more smoke into his lungs. “Make a deal?”

Now it was Cas’ turn to shrug, letting Dean speak. 

“How about I start talking about the shit goin’ on, but not to a therapist or psychiatrist or whatever. To you.” 

Dean felt like the seconds that passed were hours before Cas finally answered him. 

“Okay. But if I think that you’re going to hurt yourself at any point, then you need to go see someone if I say so. Understand?”

Dean snorted a laugh, reminders of one of their last conversations out here floating up. He had thought more about it and figured Cas had some of his own demons that he had tried to get rid of. He didn’t want to assume what his own poison was for doing so, but he had an idea. 

Cas gave him his signature confused look at the laugh. 

“You’re kind of a hypocrite, aren’t you? I mean, I know you’ve got something going on with you, too. Spill.” 

Cas’ eyes flashed with pain at the accusation and he turned his head. 

“Well? I told you some of my shit and we just made that deal. Your turn.” 

“Come inside. I’m cold.” Cas moved away from the window so Dean could crawl in. 

The Novak’s room was as tidy as ever, his textbooks stacked neatly on his desk. Cas sat on the edge of his made bed, leg bouncing anxiously. Dean sat next to him, searching the boy’s profile. 

God, he really is beautiful, Dean thought. 

“You’re right. About me having my own issues.” 

Dean waited for him to keep talking, the silence weighing on them. Cas stood up and Dean finally looked at what he was wearing. Dark grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a navy blue one that Cas usually wore at night. Besides the hoodie, Dean had only really seen Cas dressed in dress pants or dark jeans, always looking a little too formal wherever he went, always with long sleeves. 

Cas looked at Dean and took a deep breath, then started pulling down his sweatpants. 

“Whoa, man, what are--,” 

“I’m showing you my issues, Dean.” Cas stopped his pants halfway down his thighs, his checkered boxers still hiding most of his skin. He rolled those up and exposed what he was hiding underneath. 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat at the scars on Cas’ thighs. They crisscrossed against the pale skin, thick from being opened and reopened for who knows how long. Some were bright pink; new ones, just recently having lost the scabs. 

Cas then pulled up his sweatshirt sleeves, holding out his forearms for Dean to see the thin, white scars that littered there, too. But no new ones there, Dean saw thankfully. 

“Cas,” he breathed finally. “Cas, I didn’t know, I am…sorry.” He wasn’t entirely sure how to react to this. It was so much worse than he thought. 

Cas shrugged, pulling his pants back up and rolling down his sleeves, crossing his arms. “You can’t apologize, it’s my own fault.” He sat back down. 

“Why? When?” 

“Stress of life, my mom, being pressured to be something I don’t want to be, loneliness, not feeling good enough. You name it. And I started after that boy I was seeing outed me. I had been depressed before, but him doing that pushed me even further down. Now, it’s my coping mechanism.” 

“When was the last time?” Dean asked quietly. 

“Night before I met you. Since then, I haven’t really been…triggered.” 

Dean didn’t know how to feel about that, but he had a small swell of pride at being able to help Cas stop his self-harm. 

“Sorry if this is a lot. You can go if you want, I won’t be upset.” 

“Cas, man. Why would I leave? I’m your friend, and honestly, you’re my best friend. I’m not gonna bail, no matter what you tell me, okay?” 

Cas met Dean’s eyes, his blue irises rimmed with red, tears forming. “Promise?” 

“Promise.” Dean pulled Cas in for a hug, which the other boy fell into, almost greedily, like he hadn’t been hugged in years. Dean thought that maybe he hadn’t, not by someone that wasn't his family, by someone that loved him. 

That thought made Dean hug Cas harder to his chest, feeling the warmth of Cas’ breath on his shoulder. He really was falling for Cas and he only hoped that Cas might feel the same.


	10. Working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a wonderful dream. Dean goes to work. Cas gets Dean a birthday gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been a minute. I've been working a lot so I haven't had time to write as much, but I'm trying to find the motivation to do more. This chapter is very short compared to others but I wanted a cliffhanger before the birthday so I can try to have a mega chapter. Can anyone guess what it is that Cas bought Dean?

The boys continued their embrace a few minutes longer. Dean has gotten brave and started rubbing Cas’ back, melting when Cas sighed at his hand moving up and down his spine. 

It was Cas who pulled back first, his eyes no longer red-rimmed. Now they were bright again, a shy smile playing on his lips. 

“It’s getting late, you should get back since you have work in the morning.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dean replied. He didn’t want to go, not in the slightest. He wanted to bring Cas close again and run his back more, run his fingers through the thick dark brown hair until they both fell asleep. But he couldn’t. 

He got up, reluctantly, and headed back to the open window. 

“Dean?” 

He turned at his name and hoped that Cas would change his mind, would ask him to stay a little longer instead. 

“I’m glad you opened up.” 

Dean shot his friend a smile. “Me too. Let me know if I can help you out, in any way.” 

“Okay. Thank you. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

He climbed out, maneuvering around the tree back into his own room, shutting the window. He left the shade open, in case he slept through his alarm, hoping the sunlight would help wake him. 

~

He was sitting next to Cas on a bench, off to the side of a playground. They were watching the kids chase each other go down the slides, parents milling about and talking to each other. 

Dean looked over at Cas, the sun shining on his skin and making him look borderline angelic. His blue eyes were watching the children, a smile playing on his lips. 

“They’re all so cute.” Cas said. 

“Yeah.” 

Cas looked at Dean, face open for Dean to see every emotion he was feeling. 

“Do you think we’ll ever have one?” 

Dean nodded mutely, no control over his body. 

He felt Cas lean into him, laying his head on the Winchester’s shoulder. Dean welcomed the touch, staring at the clouds in the bright blue sky, the same color as Cas’. 

“Hey.” Cas lifted his head to look at Dean, still smiling. Dean felt warmth fill his entire body, wanting Cas to never stop looking at him the way he was, full of happiness and...love. 

Dean tried to process that, but couldn’t because Cas leaned into him, his eyes fluttering shut as the Novak teen pressed his lips against Dean’s. 

Dean woke with a start, his alarm beeping at him annoyingly. He grabbed his phone and shut it off, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling. 

It had only been a dream. But it had felt like he and Cas were really there, sitting in the sun. He rubbed his bottom lip, wondering if Cas’ lips were as soft as they had felt in his dream. 

He didn’t lay there for long, not wanting to let his dreams turn into fantasies, because that would cross a line he had drawn in his mind. 

He got up, heading to the bathroom. Once his teeth were brushed, he got dressed, wearing his favorite blue jeans and a forest green tee. He grabbed a black and grey flannel, bringing it downstairs with him as he wandered into the kitchen. 

John was gone, having left earlier in the morning to finally bring the moving truck back. His job at the shop had needed him the last weekend, causing John to have to haggle with the moving truck company. Sam was already in the kitchen though, munching on an apple. 

“Mornin’,” Dean said as he searched a cupboard for cereal. He pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and started eating them dry. 

“Hey. You going somewhere?” 

“Work,” Dean answered, his mouth full. “Got a job downtown at a music store.” 

“Nice. You gonna show off to all the pretty girls that come in?” Sam teased. “And boys?” 

“Not sure what exactly I’ll be doing yet, so doubt I’ll be showing off to anyone just yet.” 

Sam raised one eyebrow. “You always find a chance to show off to get people even more interested in you. Unless…you already found someone specific you want to keep impressing?” 

Dean blushed and shut the box of cereal. “Shut up.” 

“You know I’m right, but whatever. Keep hiding your feelings.”

Dean left without a response, grabbing his jacket on his way out the door. 

~

He got to the front of the store at five of 9, right as Jim did. 

“Morning, son. Nice and punctual, huh?”

“Try to be, sir.” 

Jim laughed, unlocking the door and pushing it open, the peals of the bells at the top a perfect harmony with the owner’s deep chuckle. “No need to call me ‘sir’, Dean. Jim is fine, might even answer to ‘bastard’ on occasion.”

Dean laughed along with his new boss, looking around the store as he followed Jim behind the counter into an office area. The desk pushed against one side of the room was littered with papers and instrument catalogs, leaving just enough space for a computer and its keyboard. The rest of the room was pretty neat, a bookshelf beside the desk filled with more music books and CDs. 

Jim sat down at the desk, gesturing for Dean to sit in another swivel chair, thumbing through the papers until he found a blue folder. 

“Gonna have you fill out some tax forms first, so we can get you on the payroll, then I’ll show ya how we open.”

And they did just that. At 10, Jim switched the ‘OPEN’ sign on, after showing Dean how to organize the different books and discs around the store, dusting the instruments gently but quickly. 

For the next few hours, customers filtered in and out. Dean walked around, asking some that were by the guitars about what they were looking for; he even sold a brand new acoustic Fender to a pretty girl that looked to be his age. She had flirted with him, smiling a little too wide and laughing at what he said, even though he wasn’t trying to make jokes. He had wondered if she went to school with him, but he wasn’t truly interested in her. He had been thinking of the day he and Cas had visited the store last week, and his friend had been taking up most of his free thoughts. 

His birthday was tomorrow, not that he had told Cas just what day it actually was. He wasn’t big on birthdays, not anymore. Depending on the schedule Jim was going to make for him, he didn’t even want to make plans. If he didn’t work, he’d sleep and engorge himself on burgers alone. 

Around 4, after the store was finally empty after a steady afternoon, Jim came out of the office and handed Dean a piece of paper. 

“Schedule for ya, also have everyone’s numbers on it in case you ever need to switch a shift or get someone to cover you.” 

Dean looked it over, seeing that everyone had the same hours every week. He now worked Saturday mornings, Tuesday and Thursday nights. 

“I know ya got school so I don’t want to take up your whole weekend, ‘specially not with you graduating soon. But during vacations, you can pick up extra hours, or maybe I can see about having you give guitar lessons if you’re interested.” 

Dean looked up with wide eyes at that, a small smile starting. “Really? I would love to do that, thanks, Jim.” 

“’Course. Now, rest of the day will be slow so you can head out.”

Dean grabbed his stuff and clocked out in the office. He waved a goodbye to his boss, schedule in his pocket, heading for the door. Before he left, Jim stopped him. 

“Hey Dean. Have a good birthday.” 

~

Castiel had spent the last week searching online and in stores for the perfect gift for his new friend. After one night of Sam and Gabriel staying up late with homework, Cas had asked the younger Winchester when his brother’s birthday was, since he had only known he wasn’t 18 yet. Sam told him it was tomorrow, but that he’d probably want to spend it alone.

Cas didn’t like the idea of Dean being alone for one of the milestone birthdays, so he decided on trying to make it special. 

He texted Dean asking about work around 4, which Dean replied quickly to, saying he was almost home.

So Cas went to his closet, where a large box was propped up with a big blue bow. He had checked the box a billion times since it bought it in Chicago Tuesday night after calling a music store to hold onto it for him. 

He got nervous now as he wondered if Dean would like it or not. He really hoped so, or that he’d at least appreciate the gesture Cas had made. 

He heard the unmistakable sound of the Impala’s engine as Dean pulled in next door and he shut his closet gently but swiftly, not wanting it to fall and get damaged. 

Grabbing his phone from his desk, Cas shot another text to his neighbor. 

What are you doing tomorrow? CN

‘Sleeping and eating. Nothing special. Why? -D’

There’s a new restaurant about half an hour away that I hear has the best burgers around. I was thinking you might want to go with me? CN

‘I guess I’ll have to be the judge of that. Lunch or dinner time? -D’

Dinner. And then hang out at my place? CN

‘Sounds good. I’m gonna shower and crash, I think. -D’

Cas smiled at the fact that his friend actually did want to do more than spend his 18th birthday holed up in his room. He set his phone down for a minute to grab the book Dean gave him, when his phone dinged again. 

‘Do you think we could find a place that has good pie..? -D’

Cas’ smile grew along with his heart, knowing he would buy Dean a slice of pie from every bakery and restaurant to find the best one if it made Dean happy on his birthday. Or any other day, for that matter. 

Of course. CN


End file.
